An Offer From a Pirate
by Vash's Girl
Summary: BalthierxVaan, LarsaxPenelo / When Vaan and Penelo have a falling out, Vaan wanders to the pub he frequents to drown his woes in liquor. But Balthier has something else in store for him, and Vaan is helpless but to follow along for the ride.
1. Blind

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Square Enix's _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**An Offer From a Pirate**_

**Chapter One**

Blind

-o-o-

"You're late."

Vaan was hovering by the door. By the mussed state of his hair, he must have been waiting there a while. Penelo tried to feel guilty, and couldn't summon the energy for it. She couldn't find the energy for anything, really.

"I am," she agreed.

He started to shut the door behind her, but stopped. "Are there more bags?"

"Yes. Five more."

"You always have more each time you come back."

"I also stay longer each time."

Vaan went outside to retrieve them, only to be stopped by a gentleman, already carrying three of the five remaining bags. He arched his brows at Vaan, and the sky pirate pursed his lips and dutifully stepped aside.

"I don't remember servants from last time."

"He insisted."

"Did he." It was a statement.

Penelo thought she could detect a faint note of hostility.

"It isn't really _wise_, you know, to have everyone knowing where we live, especially not the imperials," Vaan said in a low voice, once the servant had gone back for the rest of her things. He wanted to be bothered that Penelo wasn't quite looking at him. She seemed distracted with something. Vaan followed her gaze—it was a necklace. "A gift?"

"No, I bought this one myself."

It was a lie, plain as day, and Vaan was almost in a foul enough mood to call her on it, but he stopped himself. Why was he angry? It was obvious that Penelo was distressed. He'd have to be blind not to see it, and though Vaan might have been as much at certain times, today he wasn't.

Still. He was expecting her hours ago—nearly the day before. Why had she returned so late? Unless _he _had kept her, which was obvious by the trailing servant and copious amounts of luggage, in which case Vaan's mood soiled even more.

He did his best to keep his tone idle, though it played at odds against the hiss he'd affected mere seconds ago. "Are you staying long this time?"

"Of course. This is my home." She turned to him finally, her brows pinching together.

"Oh, it is?" Mildly, Vaan thought, to cover up the first flickers of anger. He hadn't wanted to have his fight now, but it seemed well on its way, and he'd been worried enough over her delay to let it keep on. No use in stopping it now—if he held it in, it'd just be worse later. "Archades doesn't seem like home much?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Flat, pointed. Penelo, too, saw the makings of the fight.

"Just that you spend more time there than here, so I was wondering where home really was to you."

"That's not true. Every four weeks I spend there, I stay six or more here."

"Four weeks, six weeks, what's the difference?"

"I'm not doing this." Penelo left him in the foyer to travel up the stairs in the direction of her bedroom. Her hand trailed along the banister, and he could see the way her nose had risen several notches in the air. She'd definitely perfected that look while she was away.

It made his blood boil hotter. "Doing what, Penelo?" Quickly now, as he followed her, foregoing the grip of the banister as he remained just a pace away from her heels. She could probably feel his breath on her neck, they were so close. "I'm only concerned about why you stay here at all, you know. Don't you think I have a right to wonder?"

"Of course you do. But you don't have to be so damned snide."

"Oh, I'm snide now?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Gods, you even _talk _differently."

She whirled, and he didn't bother hiding his satisfied smirk when he saw the way her eyes were blazing. "Forgive me, Vaan, but spending time around courtiers more than half my days tends to affect my speech. I realize I sound quite educated, but I suppose I can see how you're uncomfortable with it in your unfamiliarity in the matter."

His expression darkened. "Hey."

"What?" She lifted her brows at him. "Don't like it, do you? Now leave me alone, I'm tired, and I don't want to fight."

He caught her wrist before she could get too far. "Penelo."

"What?" Her sigh was weary, and her shoulders drooped.

"What aren't you telling me?"

The laugh she gave him was so hollow, it frankly scared him. "You ask me that now, after a year of this? _Now_?"

"Now's a better time than not at all," he said defensively. He suddenly felt as though he'd lost the high ground. But had he ever had it to begin with? He was beginning to wonder. "I mean this, Penelo. What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on."

"You didn't kiss me when you walked in the door. Something. Is. Wrong."

"It's nothing for you to concern yourself with. Let me go, Vaan." She tugged at her wrist.

Against his better judgment, he released her. He knew better than to force her to do anything. "Penelo, please, don't shut me out."

"It's a bit too late to be asking me that." She resumed her path up the stairs. "You weren't exactly welcoming when I got back, Vaan, and you can't take back your hostile attitude now. I'm going to bed, we can discuss this more in the morning."

"I want to talk about it now. The only reason I'm crabby is because you were so late."

"What do you want me to tell him, Vaan? He's the Emperor of Archadia. He asked me to stay a night longer, so I stayed."

"He's also your friend, and I _seriously _doubt he'd pull the emperor card on you." Not if he knew what was best for him.

Penelo turned the corner at the top of the stairs, took a short path up another staircase, this one with only four steps to its name, and veered into the darkness of her room. Vaan followed suit and watched as she waved her hand over the magicite lamps. Light sprung to life, illuminating the furniture and the gifts that had arrived while Penelo was gone. Vaan had taken each of them in when they'd arrived a week ago.

He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms with a scowl. He didn't know what was in those carefully crafted boxes, inlaid with ocean pearls and tied with the richest of lace. Some of the boxes were satin. Others were hard, more like a wooden chest, but the tiniest of them had jewels encrusted along their edges. There was no other word for them except for gifts, and judging by the look on Penelo's face, they had come as a complete surprise to her, as well.

"Oh," she breathed, picking up the nearest wrapped box. It was heart-shaped, a sapphire pressed into its center among its silk cover. "When did these come for me?"

"Last week." He couldn't quite keep the bite out of it.

Penelo's face closed in thought.

He measured that expression—he couldn't read it, but he knew he didn't like it. "What?"

"Nothing, sorry. I'm just tired."

He didn't buy it for a minute, and both of them knew it. "Well, I have to say that I'm not really sure how to feel right now, Penelo."

She sat the gift back down. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Relieved at her apparent disinterest, disappointed because he wanted to know what was in the damn thing. All of the boxes! It had been gnawing at him for days. He rather thought that that was a tactical maneuver on Larsa's part. He never did anything lightly. Which was probably what pissed Vaan off so much about it. That, and…

"What do you mean, Vaan?" She reached up to her hair, pulling free the pins there as she made her way over to her vanity. It was something she'd gone out and gotten earlier in the year, once she'd returned from an Archades trip.

"I mean that you're my girl, Penelo, and he's sending you expensive things. How is that supposed to look to me?"

She didn't respond, her expression distracted as she pulled her fingers through her hair, loosening her curls from where they had sat atop her head. He studied the blonde fall of her hair along her shoulders and back and felt a twinge of longing. When was the last time he had lifted those golden strands to his nose, inhaled as he stroked the silky curls?

"I suppose what it looks like," she said after an uncomfortable length of silence.

He nearly choked on his breath. "_What_?"

"I won't hide it." She lifted her brush. "He's made a bid for my affections."

Vaan stared.

And stared some more.

Finally, he exhaled noisily and wasn't surprised to hear how badly it shook. It was one thing to suspect—no, to have it blatantly rubbed in his face, even. But for Penelo to say it out loud like that, and so _casually_.

"I'm… I can't _believe _this."

"Don't bother getting upset."

"What?! How am I supposed to be calm?! How can _you _be so calm?!"

"Because I'm here with you, aren't I?" She set her brush down and lifted her fingers to the back of her neck to work on the clasp of the necklace there. "Or has that failed to grasp your attention?"

She was right. Of course she was right. But it still damn _rankled_—that Larsa would tell Penelo that he had full intentions of getting her as his, that he probably even planned to take Penelo away from him, that…

This was just damn unacceptable!

"Pack up your things. We're going."

Alarmed, she stared at him. "What? Where?"

"To Archades. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind!" He spun for the door, his mind racing ahead. He'd pack a light bag, nothing too much. He wouldn't be long in Archades. Just time enough for Larsa to eat his knuckles, and then they'd be gone, and he'd never see or hear from them again.

"Oh, no we're not!" Penelo seemed to have recovered from her shock, for she rushed from the vanity to grab Vaan by the elbow and jerk him around. "You can't just go storming into Archades and do that!"

"Why the hell not?!" he fumed.

"Because I don't want you to!" she cried. "And that should be reason enough! Honestly, Vaan, what are you so worried about?!"

"THAT YOU'RE LETTING HIM DO THIS!" he exploded.

They stared at one another, each breathing heavily in the silence.

He jerked away from her and stumbled back a step. "That's it, isn't it? You _like _him," he whispered, horrified, his eyes wide and locked on her rapidly paling face. "You _do_. I thought you were just being a friend when you stayed in Archades when he asked you to, but—but I can't ignore this anymore, can I? If you really just wanted to be with me, if I really had nothing to worry about, you'd send his gifts back."

"Vaan—" She reached for him.

He sidestepped. "Did you bother telling him no? That you weren't interested? I know he's persistent, Penelo, but damn, I know the man enough to be pretty sure that he'd let off if you told him no."

"_Vaan_!"

"You told him you'd think about it, didn't you? Or that you didn't know? Or, wait, wait," he laughed, waving a hand, "that you wanted more time, right?"

"Vaan, stop!"

"I've got to get out of here. Don't wait up for me, I don't know how long I'll be." He whirled, bypassing his room this time in favor of heading down the stairs.

He heard her footsteps behind him, clomping down the stairs as she raced to keep up. He didn't care. He wasn't going to slow, and he had always been faster than her. He needed to get away from here, to think, to realize what this might mean.

Gods, it was all so _clear _now. How could he have been such an idiot? For an entire year, he'd been swindling her away from him, right from beneath his nose. Using cover stories that Penelo's diplomacy skills were really helpful in the court to bring more good feelings untoward Dalmasca. Letting everyone think she was a noble, pretending that it was just temporary, that it'd end eventually.

But he was _grooming _her, wasn't he? Preparing her for a life at the court?

By the gods—

_I can't believe I didn't see this for what it was! _

_I __**trusted **__him! _

"Vaan, gods, stop—stop being an idiot, let's talk about this!"

She wasn't telling him that it wasn't what he thought. She wasn't denying that she liked him.

"There's nothing to talk about, Penelo. Why did you even come back?" He stopped at the front door. The servant was long gone. "At least tell me that one, huh?"

Penelo skidded to a stop before him, obviously surprised he'd whirled around so quickly. She stood there, trembling, her eyes scanning his face. Did she think he wasn't serious? Then her eyes widened with realization, and they both knew he was.

"Vaan… Please…" She placed the heel of her palm to her brow, and already he could see the tears pricking at her eyes. He knew how much this was costing her from that alone—Penelo hated to cry in front of anyone. But it didn't move him, in that moment, not like it always had before.

He was too _angry_, he felt too betrayed.

"Well?" he prompted, and he wasn't, strangely, ashamed to hear the fine quaver in his voice. "Well, Penelo? C'mon, let's straighten this out now. Why did you come back? No, while we're at it…" A laugh left his lips for the second time. This one was strained, and he had to stop as an answering prick developed in his own eyes. "Why did you lie to me about the necklace? I mean—why even bother with all of this?"

Her throat worked as she turned her head away. Swiftly, her hand came up to swipe over her eye.

"They're beautiful pearls, Penelo. When did he buy them for you?"

She said nothing.

"Look, I already know you're lying about them. Why don't you just _at least _give me the truth, huh? Is that honestly asking for so much?"

Again, she swallowed.

"Penelo," he growled. "Don't pull this with me. I deserve more than that. When did he buy them for you?"

"He didn't!" she cried, finally looking to him again. Her cheeks were wet, and she looked stunned at her outburst. When her voice came again, it was faint. "…They were his mother's…"

For a moment, absolutely no words came to him. He just stared at her. Air seemed lost to him—it was if she'd sucker punched him right in the gut.

She shook her head and turned away from him. "If you're going to go, then just go, Vaan. We both know you want to."

But now he wasn't finished yet.

"No, wait." The words were low and dangerous, and he saw her back stiffen. "So that's it, then, Penelo? You spend all this time away from me, letting him—letting him wheedle you away from me—and you come _here_, to _me_, wearing _his mother's necklace_?" It took all he had not to shout the words. It helped that he still couldn't gather a good breath for it.

"Vaan…"

"No, explain that one to me, Penelo, _please_. I'm _dying _to hear this."

Her jaw was set as she whirled back to him. Instead of tears gathered on her lashes, anger now lurked in the blue depths of her eyes. "I don't have to explain anything to you, not when you're being like this."

"You didn't want to leave, did you?" he goaded, stepping from the door to come near her. He must have looked really angry, because for all her bravery and all her years spent steadily in his company, she began backing away. "You wanted to stay in Archades!"

"Why are you _doing _this?!"

"Why are you wearing his mother's necklace?!" he fairly roared. She didn't flinch, but her pace quickened. Too bad for her—her back was about to smack right into the window and then she'd have nowhere to go. Oh, he wouldn't hurt her, but she was going to stay here and they were going to settle this once and for all.

"BECAUSE I WANTED TO!" she shouted, and this time she wasn't surprised at her surge of anger. If anything, Penelo hated being backed into corners. Her feet came to a firm stop, and she lifted her hands, bracing them to shove against him if she had to.

"You _wanted _to?"

"Yes! Why else would I be wearing it?!" Her arm flew out to the side in a wild gesture. "That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?! That I wanted to wear this, that I practically begged him for it?!"

"_Did you_?!"

"Sure, why not?! You're not going to believe anything I have to say to you about it, anyway!"

He sounded raspy when he spoke next, in his effort to lower his tone, "Kind of hard when the evidence of—of—of your little affair is right in front of me, Penelo."

"It wasn't an affair, and it's _not_!" Hand flying up to her throat, Penelo stared at him. She didn't seem to know what he was going to do next. That made two of them.

"_Why. Are. You. Wearing. It?_" It took all he had to get out the words in an even voice, though in truth it was closer to a hiss. That was fine. At least he wasn't screaming, which is what he _really _wanted to do.

"I told you." Though her voice still carried the fine trembling note it had when he'd first begun questioning her, her shoulders straightened. Her chin jerked up. "I wanted to."

"So then _why _did you come back?" Thunderous, shaking all of him as he resumed his advance toward her.

She stood her ground, but despite this, tears were fresh in her eyes. "I don't know."

"You don't know."

"No," she whispered.

"So then what you said upstairs—was that all a lie, too?!" He swept his arm in the direction of the staircase.

"I don't know."

He jabbed his finger at her. "Stop. You're a smart girl, and we both know it. You know everything you do."

Her fingers flexed at her side.

Good, let her hit him.

"The clock is ticking, Penelo," he said raggedly, straight through his teeth. He could feel the muscles in his jaw clenching terribly, and it was starting to hurt. "We don't have all night." He wetted his lips, his mouth dry. "Just admit it. You wanted to stay in Archades, didn't you?"

"Gods, will you _quit _trying to provoke me?!" she spat at him. "Just knock it off!" Funny how she didn't sound quite so refined when he'd finally pushed her buttons hard enough.

"Just answer the question! How hard can it be?! You wanted to stay in Archades, didn't you?!"

"Yes, fine, _yes_! I wanted to stay in Archades! I regretted it the second I stepped foot outside of the Imperial Palace!"

"Did you?!" They were nose to nose, glaring hatefully at each other.

"Yes! I did! I never wanted to leave!"

"And these—these dresses of yours, the way you do your hair now, all the fancy perfumes, the luggage, the _servants_, the little tea parties you write to me about, you enjoy it, all of it, don't you?!" He didn't want to hear any of this—he didn't want to know her answers. But he couldn't make himself stop. It was as if poison had settled in his veins, and the more it spread, the angrier he became, the more reckless.

"Yes! I do!"

"He's _changed _you, and you don't care one bit!"

"He hasn't _changed _anything, Vaan, I _want _the life I have there!"

"Do you also want to raise your nose at people and look down at them? Think you're better than everyone else?" He chuckled, and the sound was ugly, even to his own ears.

"Gods, _what_? Vaan—it—it has nothing to _do _with that!" Now she was the one to advance as he took his space away from her. He spun on his foot, going for the door.

"Why did you come back here?"

"I told you already!" He heard something shatter on the floor, pieces scattering along the wood. It was probably the vase he'd nabbed from Ashe's sitting room the last time he'd been there. Fine. Now there was no evidence that he'd stolen it.

He sent her another laugh over his shoulder.

Everything was going down, down in flames, and it was all he could do.

Laugh.

It was either that, or start crying, and she didn't deserve his tears anymore.

"I don't know!"

When he was at the door, he turned back to her. "Well, you better find out now. It's time to make a decision, Penelo." Silence fell between them, and their eyes darted back and forth over one another's faces. He broke it, nearly croaking, raising a hand half to her, half to the side. "So you don't want to be here. So you don't know why you came back, when I think you and I both very well know _perfectly _that you do."

Her nostrils flared. She was still standing by the vase she'd broken. "It's _not_—"

"We'll just say you were confused—that okay? I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." He stepped toward her, stopped, lifted both hands. "Before you ran off into his sweet, _loving _arms, you wanted to make sure it was the right thing to do. See what you were leaving behind."

Her nose rose an inch into the air. He wasn't sure, but he thought he caught the faint hum of magick on the air.

"Okay, I get that. So here's what we're going to do, Penelo—we're going to settle this once and for all."

Her jaw locked into place. Her eyes narrowed.

He pointed to his chest. "Me." He pointed behind him. "Or Larsa."

She shook her head, looking down.

"Aw, Penny, come on now. If you really ever loved me, you can at least do this for me, can't you?"

"And if you ever really loved me, you wouldn't make me decide like this." Her eyes rose, and they were wet.

He was thirsty suddenly.

He needed a beer.

"Well, that settles it, doesn't it?" Pivoting, he reached for the knob to the door and twisted it open. "Don't wait up for me."

She rushed forward. "Vaan!"

He slammed the door squarely in her face, and as he walked away, digging in his pocket to make sure he hadn't left his money pouch behind, he thought he heard her let out a strangled yell of fury.

Larsa was better for her, anyway, he decided.

After all, what did he have over an emperor?

He chuckled to himself.

And there, in the crisp wind rising up from Balfonheim port, he let the dark of the night be the only witness to his tears.

-o-o-

Penelo wasn't sure how long she remained on her knees on the floor. It could have been only minutes. It might have been hours. Either way, it didn't matter. If she wanted, she could go on nursing her broken heart forever.

Or she could get up, take a deep breath, and clean the mess she'd made.

Her legs aching in protest, she got to her feet, only to kneel again several steps later to the broken glass. Glass was so expensive. It was a shame she'd thrown it in her anger. Not that she—or Vaan—had paid for it to begin with, but…

_Vaan. _

His warm, blue eyes. The way his blond hair fell over his face, framed his smooth, tanned cheeks. His lopsided smile he usually reserved only for her these days. The few last inches in height he'd grown until he'd hit his current ripe age of twenty-three.

_Gods… _

She wiped her wrist beneath her nose, uncaring if it wasn't very ladylike. She was too far from Archades to worry about that now.

Archades…

Leaving the broken pieces of glass where they were, she rose again to her feet. She swiped her palms over her skirts, sniffled, and then gripped onto the banister as she ventured up to her room.

She wouldn't bother unpacking.

She'd stay tonight, think things through, make sure this was what she wanted to do. See if Vaan had cooled off when he got home, whenever that would be. If she still felt the same then as she did now, then she'd go. She'd head straight back for Archades, even though Larsa had told her she had more than enough time to think about things.

But she didn't want to think.

What she wanted was to not hurt anymore.


	2. Tender Web

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Square Enix's _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**An Offer From a Pirate**_

**Chapter Two**

Tender Web

-o-o-

How could she have done that to him?

Hadn't his love been enough for her?

He'd trusted her… _explicitly_—to let her be away in Archades for so long at a time, naïvely thinking it had everything to do with bettering the ties between Archadia and Dalmasca. And now look where that had landed him—at a bar, nursing a beer, peering drunkenly into its amber depths past the light layer of foam that coated it.

Penelo and him—they'd gotten so very far in their lives. Even before the plague had taken Vaan's parents and forced him to find refuge with Penelo's family, he'd loved her. He'd admired the way the sun shone on her gold-spun curls. He could lose himself for hours in those pretty blue irises of hers, colored so much like the sky. He'd always compared them to sapphires at first, but later he'd seen the stretch of blue over the land in the Cerobi Steppe, and from then on, nothing had been comparable.

Her slender body… the way it moved when she was performing a dance or getting ready to hail an esper. The magick that breathed through the air when her fingers twirled and her lips moved as she recited the words to a spell. The toned stretch of her belly, tanned and so very smooth, and the pantaloons that had clung enticingly low on her hipbones—this being before her frequent visits to Archades had landed her a wardrobe of stiff dresses.

Gods, he resented that more than anything, how Larsa had changed her. Her hair was constantly piled atop her hair now with pins, ornate though they were. Her body was hidden away in those dresses, her back was ramrod straight with the effort of not slouching into a corset. Her expressions were more guarded, to better battle the vipers that lay in wait in the court. Her words were often clipped, precise, and her trusting nature had all but left her.

Not that he could blame that last one. The world was often a cruel place, and while Penelo was practical, it was best not to couple that with an innate trust for any put-upon stranger.

Vaan took another swallow of his beer, ignoring the bitter bite.

He hardly recognized Penelo anymore. How could she have let herself be changed so thoroughly? Didn't she realize that Vaan loved her as she was—that he didn't _want _her to change into some courtier?

And besides, hadn't she always said she—

"I'll take a coeurl, sir, and my companion will have a—"

"A mesmenir."

Vaan paused, his breath caught in his throat and held there, captive like his suddenly scrambling pulse. He would recognize those two voices anywhere. They often haunted his memories of the past, flickers of white and brown and an insufferably smug grin.

He looked to his side, where two patrons had just taken their seats.

"Fran," Balthier said disapprovingly. "A mesmenir? I thought we agreed fermented raspberry and some very stale ale was often a bad decision on your part."

One of Fran's ears twitched. "The mark we hunted has made me weary. I suspect a mesmenir will suit my mood. Have you any other protests, you should make them now."

"Very well." Balthier turned in his seat toward her, resting an arm along the back of it as his other hand drifted into a gesture. "I don't much care for what it does to you. The—"

"Hey!" Vaan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Don't pretend you haven't seen me, Balthier!"

The elder sky pirate looked round, and when he saw Vaan's frown, a familiar smile stole its way over his mouth. The brown depths of his eyes lit up with something Vaan couldn't put a finger on—but he was hardly in the state to be deciphering gazes—before Balthier gestured to the barman.

"A coeurl and a mesmenir, if you would." He crossed his legs at the knee, one arm slung casually over his waist as he eyed Vaan in interest. "Balfonheim, Vaan? Something tells me I shouldn't be surprised to find you here."

"So don't be," Vaan retorted. "I was just out having a drink."

"Were you?" It didn't sound like a question, not in that slow drawl of his.

Vaan's frown deepened. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if he really liked that Balthier was here. Fran, he didn't mind so much—he'd never taken any issues with Fran, except the one time he'd offended her by inquiring if she was really over fifty years. Balthier, on the other hand, was a completely different story. One could miss him while he was gone, for all his smooth gestures and the almost abhorrent way he laid it thick on the ladies, spinning their heads. But once he was back in town, all the reasons why one grew to hate him came to mind.

Who wanted to be around someone who could think faster than you, talk more effectively, rile your anger without barely saying a word, steal all the women in your bar with only an arch of his eyebrow and an experimental flex of his lips into a smile—gods. It was highly irritating, and Vaan was sorry he had gotten excited at his presence. Now he just wanted Balthier to vanish.

He could still remember a chess match with Penelo and Larsa, some odd years ago. Somehow, they'd gotten on the subject of Balthier (had Penelo brought him up?) and Vaan had made a comment about Balthier's rakish charm and good looks, and how no one could get anything done around him when he was in his wooing phase. Back in the days when they'd been on a mission to restore Ashe to her proper throne, if they went with Balthier into a pub to check out the newest marks, they often didn't leave for a few hours. Sometimes Balthier didn't leave at all.

Penelo had agreed with this, but had said that Balthier's good looks more than made up for it. She'd admitted with a sheepish grin that she often found it difficult to be angry with him because of this.

And that's when Larsa's brows had risen slowly as he'd taken his chocobo knight across the board.

"_Ffamran mied Bunansa will look rather like his father one day, I expect." _

That had successfully soothed Vaan's wounded ego. Balthier? Overweight? Perfect.

He set his jaw as he felt the sting of betrayal, and when he drank from his beer this time, it burned all the way down.

How could he have ever trusted that little snob?

"I do so hate to interrupt your brooding, but Fran and I have a table to claim. Care to join us?" Balthier cocked an eyebrow, already on his feet as Fran waited just behind him, her dark eyes watching Vaan quietly.

"No, thanks." Vaan shrugged and signaled for another beer. This was going to be a long night of misery, and he'd rather go it alone.

"Well, suit yourself." Drink in hand, Balthier drifted through the patrons situated around tables until he found one in the far back near the window. Not that there was much of a view at this time of the night, but maybe he liked to feel the salty breezes drifting off the port.

_Balthier? Sentimental? Please. _

Vaan snorted and took a sip from his new beer.

He noticed in the next few passing hours that Balthier and Fran ordered more of their drinks, mostly because he paid attention to the server who kept coming to the bar to refill them. He wasn't sure why he cared. After all, he didn't want to give Balthier any time in his thoughts at all, if he could help it. That was just the thing, though, wasn't it? He _couldn't _help it. Whenever Balthier was around, he captured your attention like a disease, and you were helpless but to let it suck all the energy out of you.

The longer Vaan stayed at his seat, the more tempted he was to go join the pair of sky pirates. He'd yet to see a pretty lady be summoned over to the Archadian's table, and if Vaan was honest with himself, that definitely soothed his ego some. The last thing he wanted to see after that horrible fight with Penelo was Balthier entertaining himself with a quickly developing harem of bar maids.

But continuing to glance over in the direction of Balthier's table wasn't proving wise, because eventually Balthier's eyes began to settle on his every time Vaan curiously turned his head around. He wasn't sure what was in Balthier's gaze—something dark and purposeful, almost challenging. More than once Vaan found himself half out of his chair before he'd flush angrily and settle back down.

_What does he want? Then again, I'm the one watching him. _

At least, it started out that way.

Vaan was enjoying the dregs of his latest beer when he felt the unmistakable gaze of a pair of brown eyes boring into the base of his skull.

He thought about ignoring it. The gods knew that the last thing he wanted was Balthier's attention. But then a voice, perhaps born from the many glasses of beer he'd had, spoke up quite plaintively in the back of his mind and wondered why having Balthier's attention for once was such a bad thing. Every time he'd had it before, it had turned out decently well enough. After all, it was from Balthier that he'd learned how to pilot an airship. It was from Balthier that he'd begun to pick up the ways of the sky pirate. It was Balthier that had taken him under his wing.

Why the hell was Vaan being so rude, anyhow?

So what if the guy was a lech? At least he was a tasteful lech (if that was even possible, and Vaan admitted to himself that on a better night, it might not really be).

He grabbed his refilled beer and made his way over to his former, unofficial mentor's table before helping himself to a seat.

Fran was leaning back in her own, her arms crossed and her watchful eyes on the far door. But Balthier perked up with a smirk, folding his arms on the table as he leaned forward.

"I see you changed your mind."

"It happens." Awkward, Vaan looked down at his drink.

Balthier considered him for a moment, and then arched an eyebrow, his gaze turning knowing. "Tell me… this miserable little act of yours wouldn't happen to be because of Penelo, now would it?"

Blinking, Vaan met his gaze. "How'd you know about—"

"Rumors fly strongly from the capital, Vaan. About the emperor and a girl raised on Dalmascan streets?" Balthier tugged on the cuffs of his sleeves before he settled back into his seat, palms resting against the edge of the table as he folded his leg over his knee. "Such a pity for you, I imagine. It's hard to compete with a seat of power," he drawled. "I daresay even I would be tempted if I didn't enjoy being a pirate so much."

What the hell? Vaan lived in Balfonheim, and though he'd known what Penelo was doing in Archades, he hadn't heard of any _rumors_.

His lip curled. "Penelo's not going there for _power_, Balthier. She's there for diplomatic purposes."

Balthier waved an idle hand. "You say diplomatic purposes, I say she has her eye on a higher goal."

Vaan couldn't stop a low growl trickling from his throat. "If all you're going to do is talk bad about Penelo, then I'm leaving." He started to stand.

"Nonsense." Balthier calmly raised his brown eyes to meet Vaan's. "You can hardly stand as it is."

"I made it over here just fine, didn't I?"

"Certainly." The Archadian's shoulders lifted into a shrug. "You might have taken out a few chairs along the way, but I suppose that's a part of your usual swagger."

Vaan's eyes narrowed, but the other pirate's impassive mask remained strong.

Fran lifted her eyes from the door and let them settle on Vaan. "Lacking tactic though they are, his words ring true," she said in her cool voice. "Balthier still has much to learn about treating a friend well."

His eyes fond around the corners but his lips pursed, Balthier shot her an annoyed look. "Fran."

One of her ears twitched again.

Vaan settled back down despite his better judgment, eyeing Fran for a moment longer before he let his gaze swing back to Balthier's, and it was no less heated than it had been when this topic of conversation had started. "Penelo is _not _visiting Archades for power. She's not like that."

"Well, then. It's not every day that I find myself not entitled to an opinion." Balthier's fingers curled along his glass, and he took a careful sip, tilting it to peer into its contents as he savored it. He seemed contemplative for several moments before his eyes returned to his viera companion's. "Fran, what do you think?"

"Penelo treads a path she feels she must. What lies at the end of it is often left to the fates. Judge her not, Balthier. Her soul is kind."

Balthier harrumphed quietly before he shrugged and folded his arms back along the tabletop. "You heard her, Vaan." He picked at some lint on his sleeve, though he didn't seem put out by Fran's assessment in the least.

Vaan took a long swallow from his beer, and only when it was two-thirds gone did he settle it heavily back against the table. A nice buzz was accumulating. If he stared long enough at the window past Balthier's shoulder, it didn't move so much.

"I'm not worried about her and some—weird—bid for power," Vaan confessed.

"Oh?" Balthier studied his cuticles before he began to presumably pick what was dirt from underneath a nail. He wrinkled his nose, shrugged, and flicked the speck away.

_I bet it wasn't dirt, _Vaan thought morbidly. _I bet it was blood. _

"No." He sighed, unable to keep it from growing long and logged down with the grief he felt in his heart. "She loves _him_, and not me."

His companion rolled his eyes and signaled for another coeurl.

"What?" Vaan huffed. "_You _asked me to sit here."

"Mmm, because listening to this rubbish was just what I had in mind," Balthier agreed.

Fran interjected softly before another argument could break out, her gaze once again focusing on a blond head and a sad pair of eyes. "I believe he will treat her well."

All that was needed for a recap of six years past was Balthier's smarmy, _"Nobody knows men like Fran does,_" but instead the pirate just chuckled, perhaps finding the irony amusing.

Vaan sighed again and rested his temple against the table, his arms folded over his stomach. "Thanks, Fran," he said miserably.

And Fran, in her usual way, remained silent.

"Come now, enough of this moping. Why don't you have a real man's drink and move past all this?"

Vaan lifted his head, blearily staring at the man across from him. It took a moment, but eventually Balthier came into a sharper focus. "Move past this?" he repeated blankly. _How_? Every time he closed his eyes, he could still see Penelo like an imprint against his eyelids.

Penelo, clutching the string of pearls—

Penelo, pulling pins free from her hair and letting soft curls fall along her shoulders—

Penelo, angry and—

Had he heard Balthier right? Was Balthier _really _suggesting that Vaan just… up and lick his wounds and forget the whole thing had ever happened? As if he _could_. When he'd walked away from Penelo, it had felt like he'd left a crucial piece of himself with her. One didn't just "move past" that sort of pain. It had to be physically impossible!

He conveyed this to Balthier in more or less words. Possibly less. He didn't get too chatty when he was inebriated, at least not until he got to the point where this would all be a vague memory in the morning. Besides, he really didn't think the pirate wanted to hear the bits about Penelo's beauty. He'd already insulted her honor as it were.

_Am I really going to sit here sulking about Penelo the whole night…? _

_She's probably already writing to Larsa about what a horrible person I am, and how I can't keep my temper, and—_

A sudden epiphany hit him.

Why _was _he sitting here sulking about Penelo the whole night?!

They'd gotten through everything before. This was nothing, this was just another obstacle. And was he really going to let Larsa swindle her away from him? After all the years they'd had together? If she had feelings for Larsa, then fine. They could work through that. Her feelings for Vaan _had _to be stronger. She'd come back for him! She'd said she was staying, and Vaan had taken her moment of insecurity and shoved it back in her face.

And yet he was angry with Balthier for not believing in her.

Hadn't he done the same thing?

"He'll take a scotch," Balthier told the barmaid smoothly as Vaan began to take a step away from the table. "The finest you have."

"The finest? Gee, thanks, Balthier, but I don't think I'm staying. I've gotta get back to Penelo and—"

"And what?" The pirate gestured, sending the barmaid scurrying away for their drink. "Do you really think she'd enjoy seeing you in such a state? You're swaying where you stand." He shook his head. "Sit down, Vaan. At least do her the honor of being sober when next you speak with her."

Vaan's lip curled back from his teeth, and this time he was positive he was growling. "You're talking to _me _about Penelo's hon—"

"Balthier is correct. To see you like this will hurt Penelo." Fran lifted her head to him to see him. "While soul is pure, heart is delicate. She wears a strong armor to protect these things. This night, you have penetrated it."

"You heard the lady." Folding his arms, Balthier settled back in his seat and shook his head. "These matters are best done when one is not completely prepared to make a fool of himself. And you will."

Despite his better judgment, Vaan found himself sitting.

Balthier and Fran had a point. Penelo had never really approved of his drinking habit… not that he drank often, but when he did, she preferred to stay out of it. She didn't mind a drink every now and then, but when Vaan drank, he drank to get drunk. How would she feel if he just showed up, completely shit-faced, to apologize to her? Would she even believe he was being sincere?

No, no…

If he was going to apologize, she had to know that he _meant _it. There could be no second-guessing him. Every part of this situation was critically important. If he messed things up for himself any further—the first mistake had been to walk away the way he had—then she'd be Larsa's. And that was unacceptable.

"Scotch sounds nice," he said.

Balthier's mouth curved into a smile, but the strangest thing was, it didn't quite look like one. It had too much of a feral bite to it.

"I knew you'd come around."


	3. Unrest

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Square Enix's _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**An Offer From a Pirate**_

**Chapter Three**

Unrest

-o-o-

Vaan was unaccustomed to having so deep a sleep that he did not once dream.

Ever since he was little, he'd dreamed.

As he grew from childhood to teenagehood to later adulthood, the images that would come to play as he slept changed with the path his life took. He no longer saw Penelo as he chased her around, grabbing for her pigtails. The brightness of her hair and that of the sky faded to dark shades of gray and black. Penelo left him—the only times he saw her after he had been deprived of his childhood was if she was just like the others who haunted him: dead or dying or both.

He always saw his parents. They never went away. Their skin, covered in sores, followed him no matter where he went. Sometimes, he'd wake within the dream world and find himself sprawled in the sand. Dusk would claim the horizon, only a thin strip of pink left for daylight. Cold would be settling in. The wind would whistle past with bits of sand as he tried to determine how long he had dozed off.

And that would be when he would remember.

He was running an errand for his parents. They needed him home soon. He had a package with some herbs and antidotes that would hopefully help battle the plague that had started to take some of the people of Rabanastre. It was a very important task, yet he'd been so tired from hours of staying awake, waiting for his parents to return home whenever they drifted off at night to attend to people.

He'd found a warm patch of sand in a favorite alcove of his in the Estersands. It wasn't too far away from the city. He'd meant to just close his eyes for a handful of moments. Instead, he'd napped the entire afternoon away.

He needed to get home immediately. They were waiting for him, no doubt.

He didn't think, even without the dreams there to constantly remind him should his thoughts ever stray, that he would ever, _ever _forget the stark fear on his father's face as he came home that evening.

The plague had taken hold of his mother.

Soon, it would take his father, too.

So when Vaan rose that fateful morning, his eyes gummy and heavy as he forced his lashes open, he felt somewhat empty. Where had his parents been? Why hadn't they visited him? What about the war, what about Penelo, what about Larsa taking her away and laughing at him? And all the while, he'd be so alone…

Why was that absent that morning? What was wrong?

He sniffed and rubbed the back of his hand across his nose. He couldn't think with the haze of sleep still hovering so closely to his mind. It was ready to wrap its comforting arms back around him and settle him back into bed.

But there were more important things to attend to than rest.

Vaan tried to sit up, only to find himself hindered. There was a heavy weight over his waist, curled tight. He didn't understand it at first and couldn't put together enough mental strength to puzzle through it. So he lay back against the mattress, panting softly, running his fingers through his hair.

Everything felt _strange. _The more he came awake, the more his head pounded and the more his stomach twisted. He thought he might be sick, and he couldn't remember the last time _that _had happened. He was used to drinking. It wasn't such a big deal. When was the last time he'd even gotten drunk? _Had _he gotten drunk? His thoughts were such a blur, no help whatsoever. He gave up with a weary sigh.

His lashes lowered and he began to doze. This time dreams did come to him, in little bits and pieces; however, they were unlike anything he was used to. Sultry laughter echoed in his ear—the ghost of fingers pushed his hair back. At one point the press of fingertips against his arm felt so real that he attempted to sit up again, his eyes snapping open. There was no one there. Just that funny weight.

Disturbed by the vague flow of the phantoms, he scrubbed his hands over his face and set about to removing the resistance. His hand patted along it, and he discovered that it was warm, slightly firm, and had soft hairs. Bewildered, his eyes finally followed what he was touching.

There was an _arm _holding him.

Dizzy and disoriented all over again, he collapsed anew into the pillows, except this time his eyes stayed along the arm. It was definitely a man's arm. Right? The skin was tanned. The fingers were long and slim, as if they could be dexterous. They weren't very soft, though, where they touched over his hip. They were callused. Had they seen a lot of work? It was so strange, when he tried to figure it all out.

Distantly, he knew he should be worried. But he wasn't. It was very difficult to be, in this place, wherever he was.

He released the arm to rub again at his eyes. Had he been drugged? It seemed that way. Not that he'd ever been drugged before enough to tell, but even this didn't seem like a real hangover. Gods above, what had happened to him?

A muffled voice issued itself from somewhere beside him. "And how are you faring this morning, Vaan? Dare I say that you had one drink too many? If you've a need to be sick, I suggest you do it elsewhere. I'll not have the _Strahl _dirtied by your mistake."

And then the arm retreated, and with it the voice.

It was a wise thing to say, as it turned out. No sooner had the words been spoken did Vaan feel his stomach twist upside down. From there, it was a marathon to navigate through the tiny room and accompanying corridor without bumping into too many things before he reached the outside.

He emptied his stomach onto grass and flowers. Other than that, he didn't observe too much of the scenery just yet. Later, he would be grateful that they were out in the middle of nowhere, plains and cliffs decorating the land every which way he looked. He was naked, and it would have been particularly embarrassing to have been caught like that.

Vaan stood outside for a while longer, wishing he had something to drink the foul taste in his mouth away. He cupped his hands over his eyes and examined his surroundings. From what he could tell, if memory served him right, they were at the Cerobi Steppe. When he saw the windmills towering in the distance, it all but confirmed it. Where else would this place be, with the scent of flowers and the slight tang of salt on the air and the press of grass against his knees?

So they hadn't drifted far from Balfonheim, then, not far at all. At least they were still in Archadia.

He wanted to stay rooted where he was longer, if only to avoid what he knew awaited him back within the airship, but the sun got to be too bright for his sore eyes to handle. He headed back inside then, hoping he could find his clothes and maybe some food. Where was Fran, anyway? He hadn't seen her. Furthermore, why had he woken up with Balthier in the same bed? Space could have been cramped, though. Vaan was known to be cuddly when he was drunk, and quite good at pleading. He might have begged Balthier not to make him sleep on the steel floor.

That was probably it.

He rounded the bedroom corner. Balthier was already on his feet, pants open at his waist but at least on as he buttoned up his shirt. The older pirate glanced up when he heard Vaan, one eyebrow cocked as he took in Vaan's appearance. His lips pursed, like he wanted to say something, and his gaze focused somewhere in the vicinity of Vaan's torso. If he really _did _want to say something, though, he didn't. He merely looked away and hooked his cufflinks together at his wrists.

Vaan took that moment to look at what Balthier had been studying so intently. What he saw surprised him. There were bruises in the shape of bite marks littering his stomach. Big ones, too, surrounded by red, as if his skin had been suckled at for quite some time. He touched his fingers to them, blinking, trying to remember when he had gotten them. Penelo definitely hadn't put them there, unless he was missing something really important.

He heard Balthier tsk and looked up. The man was tying his boots, his lip curled in distaste.

"I don't want to hear any sniffling or anything out of you, understand?" He pulled tight at the laces. "You knew full well what you were getting into, Vaan." He looped the laces to prep for a knot. "So if you've got to cry, do it somewhere else. I've little patience for the like." He waved a hand in Vaan's direction, and then settled his foot down so that he could lift his other one.

"What are you talking about?" Vaan took a step toward him. "And where are my clothes? Why did I wake up here? Did you drug me? What am I missing here? Tell me something, okay?"

That caused his old mentor to hesitate. Brown eyes strayed toward his and stayed there. Balthier lifted his fingers to his rumpled hair and gripped at short strands of coppery brown. For several heartbeats, they just watched one another, Balthier in consideration and Vaan in a state of confusion but ready to jump to anger if that was that the situation called for. He could see deep thoughts, maybe even dark thoughts, lurking behind Balthier's gaze, even if he couldn't place a single one of them.

The man was deciding what to tell him, that much was certain. And obviously he'd expected Vaan to have collected more of his memory than he had presently.

"Well, Vaan…" Balthier said at last, folding his arms as he tilted his head to one side. "I should think that most of this speaks for itself." He gestured to Vaan, to the bed, and then to himself, all with a careful roll of his hand on his wrist. "Our mutual state of undress when you woke being rather the key to this puzzle, eh?" Expression now amused instead of irate, he chuckled beneath his breath and brushed past Vaan.

Vaan mouthed those last few words to himself, his brows knitting. He wasn't sure why this was taking so long to come together, but there it was. And when he finally was able to figure it out, he whirled around, his heart pounding—to find Balthier already gone.

"Hey!" he called, darting forward. He gripped onto the doorframe that led into the cockpit when he saw the man seated at the controls. "Are you saying…?" His face flushing, he trailed off, unable to bear finishing the sentence. If he did, it would be cementing it—making it real.

Balthier blew out a long sigh and settled back into the pilot's chair. His fingers drummed a quick beat over his seat's arm before they lifted in the air and waved again with a circular movement. "That the two of us buggered around until what was well past polite?" He rubbed his fingertips over his jaw, scratching at stubble. Vaan couldn't say how, but he knew that Balthier seemed out of steam today. Something was wrong.

Other than that they had had sex.

Oh, _wait_—

"Penelo!" Vaan cried, straightening his shoulders and spinning his head over his shoulder, his eyes straining for any sight of his clothes. "Balthier, where are my things?!"

The man muttered a reply and not much else.

Vaan was off to the directed area, and once he found his clothes, he yanked them roughly on, his mind wild with fright. He'd meant to come home soon. Oh, gods, and—and he'd _slept _with _Balthier_. He didn't remember it, but the evidence was sort of prominent, and—and—gods, what had he been _thinking_?! There was no time to be repulsed as the knowledge of what he had done finally sunk in—there was only the desperate urge to get back to Penelo.

Balthier caught his elbow before he could make it off the ship again.

"What?!" Vaan snapped. He jerked away from him, breathing hard through his nose. "What is it?! I don't have time for this! I have to get back to Penelo!"

"And what are you going to tell her, Vaan?" Balthier retorted, his voice crisp like ice as he eyed the man across the corridor. "That you grew so wasted you couldn't tell one end of you from the other? And what about the girls?"

"_What _girls?"

The twist of Balthier's lips seemed unusually cruel in that moment, and all of a sudden, Vaan felt cold all over.

Balthier's eyes lowered to Vaan's stomach once again. He flicked his fingers toward it. "Surely, you don't think I put those there, now do you? I have a habit of ensuring there's no evidence to be found at the end of the night." His arms folded over his stomach again as he took a casual stance against the wall, shoulder lightly resting on it. "The girls disagreed with me. They wanted you to remember, though it seems you haven't. They'll be so very disappointed."

Vaan gritted his teeth, tired of the mind games. "Cut the bullshit! I don't have time for this—what girls? There's no girls here!"

"Whores tend not to linger once they've received their proper pay, or so that's how it usually goes." Balthier shrugged, as if this wasn't his problem and never had been.

And that's how he'd always been. Never taking blame. Never caring about anything so long as he was spic and span. Balthier came first—nothing else mattered.

Vaan had known it. He'd even pondered on it many an occasion.

But in that moment, it still strangely hurt.

Shaking his head, Vaan fisted his fingers into his hair and strode away from the man. So be it. If that's how Balthier wanted to play, Vaan could do it, as well. He wouldn't care about the brief hint of panic he'd seen in Balthier's eyes as Vaan had walked from him the first time—or that vulnerability that had hunkered around him like an unfamiliar coat as he'd done up the laces on his boots.

If Balthier wanted to keep him at arm's length, then fine.

When Vaan's feet hit the grass, he pushed through it, trampling a few flowers in his haste to head down the slopes so that he could make it back to Balfonheim. Balthier's eyes lingered on him—he could feel it. But he didn't shout after Vaan again.

-o-o-

Unfortunately, the fact remained that Balthier was right. What _would _he say to Penelo? The more he got to thinking about it, the more quickly anger left to be replaced by a growing sense of despair and panic. And the trek back to Balfonheim was a long one, pitted with staying out of sight and avoiding the likes of wyrms and dangerous birds. He had plenty of time to let everything fester.

Gods, what had he _done_? Everything he'd had with Penelo, all of their years together, thrown away in the heat of jealousy.

He'd seen her stroking those beautifully ornate boxes Larsa had given her, and he'd lost it. Something black and ugly that had been lurking for months had reared its head, and from then on, he'd been trapped in its wrath. It was only now, when it had left, that Vaan was left with the mess it'd made.

Larsa had been his _friend_. And yeah, it hurt that the rotten pipsqueak was vying for Penelo's hand despite all they'd been through together. But what good was it to run away from the problems and storm a path to the pub and get _smashed _and then wake up in bed with Balthier? He should have stayed home—stayed calm, told Penelo that he loved her, no matter what, and that he'd never let her go.

That's probably what Larsa would have done. For all his brand new faults, he was even-tempered. Not one to make rash decisions. Willing to slither down in the grass and wait. Vaan's complete opposite.

_Know thine enemy_.

He had, and he'd _still _lost it.

In his mind's eye, he could still see those pearls around her neck.

"_They were his mother's."_

Even now, just thinking about it had his jaw aching with how hard he was grinding his teeth. But there were plenty of ways he could have handled the situation—and what he _had _done was entirely the wrong way.

And now what?

Now, he knew, he faced losing Penelo. All that was right and good in his life, the person who had kept him tethered, _alive _at times with both her magick and her quick, logical mind… all gone, in a fit of his temper. All of it. Everything.

Penelo had once told him that his temper was going to get ahead of him one of these days, his temper and his sheer recklessness. That she wouldn't be there to stop him.

Why hadn't he _listened_?

-o-o-

Vaan didn't know how long he watched the door of their home—if it could even be called a home anymore. Vaan spent his time in the skies. Penelo, lately, had been in Archades, training to be a diplomat. No one was really even there anymore. Vaan had always considered home where Penelo happened to be… but she didn't feel the same anymore, did she?

There was an old adage, wasn't there? Something about if you truly love someone, let them fly away and be free? And if they really, truly love you, they'll come back to you. They'll settle back on your finger and sing for you again.

Vaan wiped at the burning sting in his eyes as he let himself into his house. It was dark. Shadows swathed the floor because the curtains hadn't been opened for the day yet. Usually Vaan didn't bother with them, but it was the first thing Penelo did in the mornings when she woke up.

The stairs creaked under his feet as he made his way up them. He trailed his fingers along the banister. In his head, he could hear the echoes of the fight from the night before. He could see himself running down these very steps, Penelo on his heels. His ears caught the shatter of priceless glass along the hardwood. And as he rounded the corner and began to head for Penelo's room, she was still there, running reverent fingers over a pretty little box.

But when he blinked, when he shook his head to clear the images, he found instead that her room was empty.

There was no one there. From the looks of it, the bed hadn't even been slept in.

He squeezed his fingers over the bridge of his nose and moved into the bedroom. He knew what he would find. It was just hard to believe, even after everything that had happened.

And there it was, on her vanity—a folded slip of paper.

He snatched it up, crumpling it in his fingers, unable to bring himself to read it. He stood there for a while, glaring down at it, hurt a gnawing pit in his chest. When he looked up into her mirror, he wasn't sure who he saw there.

Did it matter, what she had written him?

Did anything matter anymore?

He took the letter and climbed up onto her bed, immediately surrounded by her scent as his head came down to rest on her pillows. It was something close to vanilla. He'd never asked for the exact name of it. She'd picked it up in Archades months ago. He'd watched her dab it behind her ears and at her throat from time to time.

He clenched his eyes shut and willed the rest of the world to disappear. He just wanted to be alone with Penelo, even if she didn't want to be alone with him, as was evidenced by her departure. She'd taken her hair brush and perfumes; he was certain if he looked into her wardrobe, he'd find missing clothes as well. The boxes that had been sent to her were still in the middle of the room, though Vaan thought if he looked, maybe he'd find a few missing, like the smaller ones.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

For several moments, all he could see was red.

He rolled onto his back and let his gaze drift to the canopy over Penelo's bed. He'd gotten her this bed—that vanity, that wardrobe. He'd pirated for years now for the money he had at his disposal—but he'd ensured that she had begun to have the life that they'd been denied as children. Yet it didn't matter, did it? It didn't matter at all. Because all of this… none of it compared to what waited for her in Archades.

His cheeks were wet when he opened the letter and held it close to his eyes to read.

_Vaan, _

_I went looking for you last night. I wanted to apologize for the fight. _

_But I guess you've already made up your mind, haven't you? I… saw you with Balthier—with those girls. You didn't even care when you saw me. I guess if you're reading this, maybe you still don't care. I don't know what to think anymore. _

_Anyway… _

_I'm going away for a while. I don't know when I'll be back. _

_Please take care, _

_Pen _

He balled the piece of paper into his fist and clenched his eyes shut, and for a long time, for as long as he could stand it, he just didn't breathe.

-o-o-

Balthier was waiting for him on the _Strahl_. He seemed to be in a much better mood. Vaan didn't want to think about why. He just brushed past him, heading for the cockpit.

"She's gone, I take it?"

Vaan paused in front of the consoles for the airship. He raised his hand, the one he'd shredded Penelo's letter with. He curled his fingers inward, still studying it.

It wasn't until he felt more than heard Balthier behind him that he whirled, slamming his fist directly into the other man's face.


	4. The Accused

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Square Enix's _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**An Offer From a Pirate**_

**Chapter Four**

The Accused

-o-o-

There was a roar, furious and eardrum-shattering, and it took Vaan several moments to realize it was coming from himself. He was pummeling his fists into Balthier unrelentingly, as fast and as hard as he could. It didn't register that Balthier wasn't fighting him back. All he cared about was the satisfying crunch whenever he managed to get a good hit on the older man.

Balthier was slammed into the co-pilot's seat. His head smacked into the upholstery of it. Only now did he raise a hand to his bloody nose. Quick as a powerful lightning spell Penelo liked to cast, Vaan hit him again—and again—and again…

They toppled to the floor. Vaan seized Balthier's poet shirt, stained red with the blood from his broken nose, his other fist raising into the air behind him. Breathing heavily, he glared down at the man who had just helped to destroy his life. The urge to punch him again was rising strongly, and Vaan's fingers twitched in preparation. It would be so easy, just to beat that face into something unrecognizable by all the pretty girls that liked to flock to the Archadian sky pirate.

"Why?" Vaan hissed. To his great shame, his eyes felt hot. He ignored it. He wouldn't show Balthier how much he was hurting. "Why would you do something like that? Don't you have a heart at all?! What me and Penelo had was—"

"Weakening," Balthier said thickly. "Strained so much that it was about to snap."

"No, it wasn't!"

"It was, or have you forgotten the fact that Larsa is likely the first person she ran off to?" Balthier's deep brown eyes blazed up at him, now lit with their own fire, any passiveness they had displayed earlier evaporated, gone. What was _he _so upset about? Who _cared_? What was it to _him_? This was Vaan's relationship, his own problem! Well, and Penelo's. Either way, it didn't involve Balthier at all, and he'd gone and butted in!

It took Vaan a moment to realize that Balthier wasn't upset for Vaan. It was Vaan who he was upset at.

Vaan released him, staggering to his feet and staring down at Balthier in a mixture of awe and disbelief. He would never understand what went on in that guy's head. "And what are you so mad at me about, huh? Other than the…" He gestured to his face. Balthier's was mostly hidden behind the fountain of blood that kept pouring from his nose.

Balthier spat to the side. More blood came out, splattering to the floor. At least a tooth wasn't involved. Balthier would never have forgiven him for that.

"You are ridiculously naïve when it conveniences you, Vaan." The older pirate pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his nose. He occupied himself with that for several moments, closing his eyes and inhaling wetly through his nose on the occasion. Must not have been a regular mouth-breather.

Vaan bristled at the insult. "Yeah? Well, at least I'm not going behind my friends' backs and driving off their girlfriends!"

A short, bitter laugh left Balthier in the form of a, "Ha." It managed to say everything and nothing at once. Balthier continued regardless, "She hasn't been yours for months, or hadn't you noticed?" Balthier settled himself down into the pilot's seat and crossed his ankle over his knee. From there, he tilted his head back into the headrest and groaned quietly beneath his breath around his hankie. Rainbow ring-bedecked fingers flicked in his direction dismissively. "Larsa's had her. Everyone knows it but you, it seems."

Vaan swallowed down a lump in his throat the size of a small ball. In his mind's eye, he could still see the pearls draped around Penelo's neck. He didn't think he'd be forgetting it anytime soon.

"Our Queen has even invited them to host their engagement party in Rabanastre," Balthier sighed. Since his eyes were closed again, he failed to see Vaan tensing in surprise. "It's said that Penelo laughed and quickly corrected her, much to fair Ashelia's embarrassment."

"See, there you go," Vaan said, unable to help feeling a bit smug. "Penelo—"

"It's only a matter of time," Balthier went on, talking over Vaan as though he hadn't said anything at all. "Their engagement, I mean. Now that she's fled back to Archades, I doubt there will be any reason for her to say no."

Vaan went cold all over. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, hadn't you heard?" Balthier lowered his crimson-soaked handkerchief, his expression one of bemusement. His other hand came to settle over his raised ankle. "Larsa proposed to her some odd weeks ago."

There were several moments where Vaan only saw the color red. It was vivid—deeper than the handkerchief Balthier was clutching—vivid and nearly frightening. He didn't think he'd ever been so angry in his life, not even during the war when there were some days where he'd wanted to rip the imperials to shreds for occupying his beloved home city. He didn't think he'd ever felt so betrayed, either. And not betrayed just by _one _person, but by _two_. It hurt—quite a good bit.

Never mind that Vaan had just spent the night with Balthier and some whores, as the elder pirate had said. Never mind—

The pain in his heart was terrible. It was clawing him from the inside out. He actually took a step back and clutched his hand over it, blinking furiously at the floor. The control panels of the cockpit dug into his waist.

"Now, now, there's no need to get teary-eyed over it, Vaan. Surely you saw it coming?"

Vaan didn't have the energy to make a proper retort. He didn't even bother to cast Balthier a glare as he lowered himself carefully to the floor. He was fairly certain that if he made one wrong move, he'd shatter to pieces.

The world had nearly ended for him when he'd lost his parents. When Rabanastre had been invaded, the world just wasn't a very fun place to be anymore. There had been some days where he'd thought that maybe they'd be trapped beneath the weight of the empire forever. Never had he felt so alone. But—through it all—there had been Penelo. Yes, they'd had arguments, ones that were epic at times. Sometimes Penelo did nothing more than nag at him as though she was his mother. That didn't change anything at the end of the day… Penelo meant more to him… than… than anything…

She kept him going. She—

Balthier rose his feet. "Should I give you a moment?"

"Just—tell me why, Balthier…" The words came from him slowly, and Vaan lifted his head so that he could get a good look at the man who had pushed things from a teetering situation to overboard. "Her note said that she saw us. Did you make it easy to find?"

"I might have." Balthier returned his gaze unfalteringly, battered face and all.

Vaan put a hand behind him on the control panel and used it to haul himself to his feet. He swayed on the spot, wetted his lips. "Why?" It was the only thing he could think of to say that wouldn't result in anymore blistering anger being thrown Balthier's way. He had enough of it for Larsa at the moment, and Balthier had just been pummeled bloody. He could get a break. Just for a moment. At least until Vaan dealt with Larsa.

"Why?"

"Why…" Vaan flung an arm in his direction. A headache was pounding behind his eyes, and he closed them. "Why are you on their side? Why did you—do this? Make it worse?" But another thought had just occurred to him, through the immense amount of grief taking him. "Can he—_do _that?"

"Do what?"

Vaan found that he had more than enough strength to shoot Balthier a dirty look now. Balthier knew exactly what he was talking about. What was all this playing dumb crap? "Propose!"

Balthier folded one arm along his chest. The other hand was supporting his nose with the handkerchief again. Now that Vaan looked closely, he saw that it was embroidered. Vain prat. "…Well." One of Balthier's eyebrows rose, and Vaan couldn't remember a time that gesture had been so condescending. "He did, did he not?"

"No—I mean—well, yes—but… I mean…" Vaan sputtered for words, a bit taken aback. That was it? That was all Balthier had to say? Didn't he get the—_wrongness _of this situation? Didn't he see what had happened here? Or was he just toying with Vaan? "She's… not a noble."

"I stand by what I said before." Balthier pulled the hanky away to examine it. It was thoroughly soaked, but his nose wasn't bleeding as much anymore.

Since he wasn't getting any help from Balthier in answering his question, Vaan scowled down at the controls beneath his palm. Penelo _wasn't _a noble. The people of Archadia would never let her marry Larsa. Didn't they have laws against it? Blue blood and all of that. The same worked for mostly any foreign country. Granted, Larsa was "elected" as emperor, but everyone knew how that really worked; it had been two centuries that the Solidor household held the throne. Vaan knew some of the history.

But then—it all… sort of sunk in.

The long visits to Archades. The ambassador-like position. The grooming.

"Oh, gods… I thought… I thought it was really—you know—just…!" Vaan put a hand to his forehead, slumping back against the controls. This was too much for him to handle all at once. He was having the worst day of his life, and now he had come to discover what the last year had meant. "Just to help our countries! So people would trust Penelo as an ambassador more! But—but—this whole time—it _has _been building her reputation more—so that—so that Larsa can _marry _her!" There had never been a clearer moment in his entire life. It was as if the world finally made some damn sense.

A broken laugh trailed from him, borderline disbelief. "Gods! And here I thought it was really for the greater good for our two countries! But it wasn't! It was—so carefully thought out… I…"

Balthier sniffed in disdain. It sounded wheezier than the norm. "Please have your mental breakdown somewhere else, my head hurts, and I am trying to relax."

Vaan rounded on him. How _dare _he make demands? After all he had helped Larsa with, the reasons for it still unknown? "Fuck you, Balthier!" The words burst from him in a fresh surge of anger. He didn't like to be so vulgar, at least not on good days—not that this was a good day… Still.

"I did," Balthier returned. "Twice."

It took Vaan a moment to recover from this remark. He kept forgetting what had transpired between them—it wasn't on his list of priorities at the moment, and he didn't think he was very prepared to handle it when it was. "…Couldn't you be more—I don't know—a little more caring?" Vaan continued to stare at him. How the hell did that man have the decency to stay so unruffled, even after the beating he had taken?

"What do you mean?" Balthier settled back into the chair he'd been occupying. "I'm being _very _caring."

Vaan snorted.

"I am." The Archadian blinked up at him. "I sent the two a letter of congratulations—prematurely, of course, but it's the thought that counts, or so I hear."

If Vaan's mouth opened any wider, it would be catching flies. "Whose side are you on?!" he demanded, advancing toward the taller man. He couldn't take anymore of this flippant demeanor! Balthier had better start taking this seriously or else—or else what? Vaan was going to punch his face in? He'd already done that.

"My own, as always."

Enough was enough. It was time to return to the question that Vaan had initially asked. Now he did it with crossed arms and an intent expression on his face. Not that it would matter in the end, or so it seemed—Balthier was too unruffled by this.

"Why are you sticking up for them? Don't you hate Larsa?" _At least, he doesn't like you. _

"It's true, I've never really tried to hide it," Balthier replied. "But I thought the answer was rather obvious, given what transpired this past night."

Vaan set his jaw. "Which is?" Couldn't Balthier just get to the point already? Vaan knew he wasn't always ahead of the game. That stood true now, as well as any time.

"You still don't have it?" Balthier rubbed his chin in thought and rolled his shoulders back into the chair before he placed his hands over its arms. His ankle had resumed its previous position on his knee.

Vaan thought he might like to look at the ground better than meet that unnerving stare, so he did. Still, he could feel it burning holes into his forehead. Balthier was good at that. Vaan idly wondered how often Balthier might have stared someone into submission.

But…

But—

Wait a minute.

Vaan gasped, jerking his head up so that he could stare at Balthier again.

No, it couldn't be! But—

"Me?" he said weakly.

"The one and the same," Balthier replied. How could he look so—straight-faced? How could he look him in the eye after admitting something like that?

Vaan couldn't do this right now. He had places to be, people to see. He could worry about Balthier once he got back, that was all there was to it. If he thought too much about it now, he was going to lose every bit of his nerves, and then where would he be? Not in a good place, that was where.

He turned and started to turn various controls on. Balthier could come along if he liked. Right now, Vaan needed to borrow the _Strahl_.

"Where do you think you're going?" Balthier's hand caught around Vaan's elbow and tugged. Vaan threw him off.

"To Archades. I've got to talk to Larsa." What did he care?

"Vaan—you're only one man."

"So is he!" Vaan all but snarled the words. Was Balthier seriously going to argue with him on this, after everything that had just happened? Balthier had admitted he hated Larsa—so then why was he preventing Vaan from bashing the boy's lights out?

Contrary to at least the semi-look of agreement he'd expected from Balthier at that moment, all he got was a stare of disbelief. Balthier was looking at Vaan as though he were the stupidest man to inhabit Ivalice.

It rankled. "What?"

Balthier grabbed onto Vaan's elbow yet again. He didn't yet move to pull him away, however. "The emperor is never one man, Vaan—he is his empire. If you go to him now, like this… Well, I dare say that I might be left to pick up your pieces, if there are any left."

"WHAT DO YOU CARE?!" Vaan exploded before he could stop himself—and if he was being truthful, he didn't want to. All the rage had finally reached its peak. He hadn't wanted to take it out on Balthier completely. Now he had no choice. If he held it in any longer…

"Well, for one, this is my ship, and I'll not have you ruining it because you're upset with Larsa."

"FINE!" Vaan whirled from him. "It's not like I don't have my own ship!" Using the _Strahl _would have been more convenient.

This time when Balthier snatched at his arm, he didn't let go. His fingers dug in to stop Vaan from getting any further, and his hold was remarkably strong for someone leaner than him. "No you don't."

"Yes, I do!" Vaan snapped. "It's at the aerodo—"

"No, you idiot!" Balthier shoved him into the co-pilot's seat. The air was knocked out of Vaan's lungs, and he gripped a hold of its arms to catch himself from slamming into the thing too heavily. "I'm not allowing you to run off and attack that brat like this! I won't allow it!"

"YOU'RE NOT IN CHARGE OF ME!" Vaan roared.

"I might as well be, seeing as how you don't have the common sense to stay put until you've calmed down!"

Vaan didn't think he had ever seen Balthier so very angry. He was usually just so composed, and he had been up until now. What the hell?

They glared at each other in silence. Vaan's breathing was heavier, louder, but Balthier's wasn't even, either. Vaan swallowed. His heart pounded from the adrenaline still rushing through him. It wanted to take charge—bull Balthier out of the way so that he could run from the ship and back down to Balfonheim. He didn't want to deal with this, any of it. After he'd taken care of Larsa, he'd win Penelo back and then disappear for a while. He'd make her see what was right, what…

Vaan let out a strangled noise and closed his eyes as he thunked his head back against the chair. He didn't want to admit it—but Balthier was right… Running after Larsa in this state… Doing him in… Penelo would never forgive him, for one. She'd always hated when Vaan acted rashly. This would just be the worst…

"I'm glad you're coming to your senses at last." The heat in Balthier's eyes hadn't lessened in the least. Vaan set his jaw again, refusing to look at him lest the rage inside of him bubble over again. "Now stay here. I'll just be a moment." Balthier turned and walked out of the cockpit. Vaan heard his footsteps until they faded.

He clenched his fist and brought it down hard against the arm of his chair.

Damn it!

-o-o-

Balthier was busy for several moments, doing whatever it was he'd walked off for. Vaan wasn't sure what that was, seeing as how he hadn't left his chair yet, until he heard an unmistakable crack of bones, and then Balthier's cry of pain.

Vaan debated with himself—see what was wrong, or let the bastard suffer on his own? The latter was such a tempting option, after everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, and Vaan hadn't exactly been fond of Balthier lately to begin with… Really, that guy deserved everything he got…

In the end, he knew he was too soft to just sit there and do nothing, so he climbed to his feet and headed out of the cockpit. A few quick glances around revealed no trace of Balthier until he reached the tiny bedroom they'd inhabited together earlier. As Vaan watched, the man's nose began to heal, probably courtesy of the empty vial in his hand. His nose finished righting itself, no longer crooked. The effect made Vaan a little queasy, but he'd seen worse.

"Better?" Vaan asked. He wouldn't apologize.

"Much," Balthier agreed. The pirate glanced down at his bloodied poet's shirt, seemed to deem it too dirty to wear anywhere, and then began to rummage through a pack at the foot of the bed. Several seconds later, he pulled free a new shirt, slightly wrinkled. Must have been a spare for something like this happening. Balthier never went anywhere wrinkled.

"…So, if you're not going to let me go—what are we doing…?" The question was slow. Vaan wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. At the moment, he really didn't want anything to do with Balthier; he could see, though, that it would take another struggle to be free of him at the moment, and he was tired of fighting. No, he was just tired. He'd only been awake for a handful of hours, and already he wanted to collapse. That bed was looking pretty comfy…

Balthier's shoulders moved into one of his casual shrugs. "I figured we might go to the bath house, get cleaned up."

Sighing, Vaan leaned against the frame of the door and crossed his arms. "…We could just take a bath at my house, you know. I do have one."

"Not the same," Balthier said with a shake of his head. "Not for what I have in mind."

Vaan's brows rose. What he "had in mind"?

-o-o-

Blessedly, the clientele Vaan had feared would occupy the bath house were notably absent. No grungy pirates with missing teeth in particular. There was just something about a man leering at you just because he could and having some yellowed, crooked teeth—well, it wasn't pleasant. Not that Vaan could spare a lot of thought for that sort of thing right now. No, he was much more focused on what he was going to do about Penelo.

He had to win her back—didn't he? It slightly worried him that he was questioning himself… On the one hand, Penelo was—or was she?—his girlfriend. It was his duty to take her back from the hands of Larsa and prove to her that it was _Vaan _she wanted. On the other hand… Maybe she—maybe she really wasn't happy with her relationship with Vaan anymore… Larsa had probably offered her loads of stuff she could want—a stable life, hand maidens, whatever noble ladies got. Not to mention the mountain of boxes that had awaited her on her recent return (though maybe this had something to do with the proposal).

What could Vaan offer her? A life of pirating, never knowing if they were going to live from one mission to the next? Vaan enjoyed the thrill of it, of that there was no doubt. A battle of life and death? What could be a greater adventure?

Though… Penelo hadn't always wanted to be a pirate, and sometimes she was reluctant about it, especially lately. Maybe it just didn't hold anything for her anymore? Maybe she felt safer as an ambassador-type person? Maybe… Maybe she was tired of… well… keeping Vaan out of trouble all the time. It had been something she frequently complained about, not that Vaan could blame her. He'd always been pretty reckless.

Maybe she just—…wasn't attracted to him anymore, either?

The thought made his heart twist in his chest. He liked to think he was _decent_-looking, enough to keep Penelo's eyes on him, at least. Was he wrong? Had the passing years taken away his youthful cuteness, as Penelo had once put it?

He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Currently he was perched on the edge of the bath. It was large, enough to hold possibly twenty men in it at a time, and deep in the ground. When one was standing in it, their feet barely touched the floor. He knew it was operated by fire magicite to keep the water charmed to be heated constantly, he just didn't know the exact mechanics of it. Soaps of all different sorts lined the rims of the bath, from base-scented to lavender. Steam rose through the room in great clouds, keeping up a thin veil of privacy for those who cared for it.

It really was nice, nicer than most people's baths at home, or so Vaan figured. They kept the house open for one hour intervals at a time, and then they would close the bath down briefly enough to switch the water out. It wasn't too costly to get in, either, although Balthier had covered Vaan's expense.

No one was around but the two of them. Vaan thought this was mighty convenient and wondered if that was what had been going on when Balthier had slipped the lady in charge some extra Gil. Not to mention that wait… Clearing out all the bathers? Seemed likely.

Vaan cast a sullen frown his way, swooshing his feet through the water. They were nicely pruned from sitting in it for fifteen minutes, and his skin had turned a delicate shade of red. Just below him, treading the water with his head tilted back against the wall, was Balthier. He closed his eyes as Vaan watched and let out a long, content sigh. The only change to his tanned complexion was a pink tinge mixing in with it.

"What?" Balthier said after a moment in which Vaan only glared at him. "Had enough of speaking about Penelo? It's all you've gone on about since we arrived."

Vaan pursed his lips and let his gaze dart away. "…Yeah, well—my head hurts."

Balthier dipped under the water with a quiet breath. He submerged several moments later, pushing his hands through his sodden hair and blinking the water free from his lashes. Steam rose off his skin, which wasn't wrinkled at all. How the hell hadn't he pruned yet? Did he have some mysterious pretty boy skin that enabled him to look attractive around the clock, or was Vaan just unfortunate enough to prune easily? He deeply suspected it was the former.

Quiet passed between them, and so Vaan let his thoughts wander.

Why did Balthier want _him_, of all people? It just didn't make any sense. Vaan was only terse with him of late at the best of times, and it would have taken a blind man not to notice. The more he was around Balthier, the more the man grated on him. Yet… according to Balthier, they had slept together, and evidence enough of that was not only because he had woken up in Balthier's bed, but also the ache persisting at the small of his back that he'd been mostly able to ignore.

Obviously he'd drunk enough that he couldn't remember the night before very well… But had that included being out of his mind? …Having sex with Balthier, it was just… so far-fetched… What _had _he been thinking?

With a faint frown forming anew on his mouth, Vaan studied the older man. Balthier was twenty-seven now, though he didn't really look it—in fact, he hadn't really aged much at all in the last five years. It was sort of remarkable. Then again, considering Balthier's uncanny habit of appearing nothing short of perfect, maybe it wasn't.

He could have all the ladies he wanted… So _why_, then, had he settled on Vaan?

Noticing his gaze, Balthier glanced back up at him. "Yes?"

Vaan let out a short breath. Well—now or never…

"Did we really…?" He gestured between the two of them, not quite ready to state exactly what they had done out loud. "…You know."

A chuckle left Balthier's lips, and the man shook his head. "No longer much concerned about the future empress, I take it?"

Vaan found himself scowling again. "Can we not talk about that?"

"I don't see why not." Balthier inclined his head. "You were so keen on it a moment ago."

Quite tired of Balthier's snarkiness, Vaan allowed himself a childish moment and kicked his foot outward. Water sprayed in an arc and hit Balthier directly in the face.

The man sputtered. "Very mature, Vaan."

"Yeah, like _you _are!" Vaan shot back. "Being all—_mysterious_ and crap all day. Why don't you just answer the question, huh? I'm tired of the mind games!"

"There's nothing to answer," Balthier said. He continued to tread the water, arms keeping pace in front of him. "I do believe I've remarked upon the subject several times already, and really do not feel the need to do so again."

Well—he did have a point.

"Fine," Vaan bit off, "then why don't you tell me if I enjoyed it or not?" His face flamed red after he asked this particular question, but he couldn't let it slide anymore without possibly knowing. Would Balthier tell the truth? He couldn't be sure.

Had he enjoyed it? Had he been forced into it? If only his memories hadn't abandoned him!

"Well now," Balthier murmured. "That _is _an interesting question."

He lapsed into silence. Vaan watched him, waiting. Several more moments passed without a word.

Just when Vaan's patience was about to snap and he was going to start demanding answers, Balthier spoke again. "I think it would be best for you to remember yourself… After all, I'm quite liable to say nearly anything, aren't I, to get what I want?"

Vaan was fairly certain that if he had a mirror in front of him right now, he would see a murderous gleam in his eyes. "That's it?" he said coolly.

Balthier sighed and shifted until he could float on his back. "That's what?"

"You're just not going to tell me anything?"

"No." And the one word was very final.

Damn it all to hell, but Vaan was growing tired of being in the dark. He would really appreciate for someone to come along and shine a bit of light on him. It would do wonders to improve his life at the moment. He was sure of it.

-o-o-

Unchecked amounts of time passed. It seemed as though it were hours—in reality? Probably close to ten minutes. Balthier was mum on the subject, Vaan couldn't wriggle anything out of him, but then, he hadn't tried. Not that he had seen a real point. If Balthier wanted to talk, he would talk. Until then, Vaan would just have to wait. Unless… Well, unless he decided he wasn't sticking around for this anymore…

Balthier was in the water. Vaan was not. Vaan could, most definitely, escape and get to some freedom. From there, he could head to Archades. Sure, he wouldn't jump Larsa—he could see now that that would be a very, _very _bad idea. They could talk, though, couldn't they? Man to man? He could even demand some answers from Larsa—Larsa would give him that much, wouldn't he? The bastard had to, if he had any sense of honor.

Vaan rose to his feet without a word.

He was just turning to go when a wet hand snagged his ankle and jerked him bodily into the bath.

Flailing, choking on the water that had just infused his lungs, Vaan kicked for the surface. He gasped in a great gulp of air, and it was several moments before he could breathe without a rattling noise in his throat again. Great gods above! Had Balthier not been careful, Vaan could have cracked his head on the edge of the bath!

"Just what the hell are you doing?!" he shouted. His voice echoed off the walls, but didn't penetrate the thick layers of steam that swirled pleasantly around them.

"Saving your life," Balthier replied. "I take it you thought to leave while I was unaware? Be careful, Vaan—you may only be a handful of years younger than me, but that can make quite a difference in this life you've chosen to lead."

"I'll be fine! I'm not heading in there all riled up now, okay?! I just want to talk to him!"

Balthier neared him in the water. Vaan forced himself to stay put. A part of him wanted to run away, and not just to Archades. More and more, it was sinking in that Balthier and he had actually had… _sex_. It was also sinking in that the thought wasn't making him as squeamish as he wanted to be. Maybe it was because he couldn't remember what had happened, and so therefore couldn't get a real idea?

"…I've decided that I'll help you," Balthier murmured, and his lashes lowered over darkening brown irises. He was very close now. Their noses were almost touching. Vaan was too frozen to move; he could only stare up at the pirate. "Attempt to jog your memory a bit."

Vaan swallowed so loudly it was audible. "…Huh?"

"You wanted to know, didn't you? About last night?"

Balthier inclined his head, one of his hands coming up to cup Vaan's throat to pull him closer—

Vaan ducked under the water, and he didn't resurface again until he was by the stone steps that led out of the bath. His face red from more than the heat of the water, he sat down some feet away with his back facing the room at large.

Balthier harrumphed softly from somewhere behind him.

"Suit yourself."


	5. Losing

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Square Enix's _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**An Offer From a Pirate**_

**Chapter Five**

Losing

-o-o-

Vaan hated Archades. He hated Archadia as a whole, but its capital was worse. Vayne was long dead—his schemes, however, would haunt Vaan's memories forever. It was because of Vayne that Penelo and so many others had lost their parents, it was because of Vayne that so many had suffered. His fist had closed about Dalmasca and reigned tightly for just over two years. He'd done so much damage that it was all Vaan could think about in accordance to Archades. He didn't think he'd ever be over it.

Now he was sitting in the study at the imperial palace where the emperor accepted visitors—foreign dignitaries, distraught noblemen, occasionally a senator, and as of that day, sky pirates. Normally Vaan would be escorted in to his guest rooms with Penelo (not that they'd been inhabited in a while, this place gave Vaan the creeps). He'd told the guard that he was here to see Larsa on official business, and so had been steered here.

Vaan's mind wandered as his gaze stay focused on the mound of paperwork on Larsa's desk. He was slumped down in one of the two chairs, his elbow on the arm rest and his hand keeping his head propped up. It had been an hour already, though he wasn't upset about that. The guard had informed him that "Lord Larsa is currently in a meeting, and will see to you when he has time available to him." This was what he got for coming in the old-fashioned way, but damned if he was going to give Penelo any reason to get upset with him.

His eyes strayed to the window. Aircabs journeyed back and forth across the sky. Below, Archades was a mass of landscaping and plant life. The buildings penetrated the sky like mountains, their tops filled with Archadian gentry, their lower half the occupational hazard of the peasantry. Instead of just occupying new land, the city built on itself repeatedly. It made him wonder what the foundations of these buildings were like. Not scum—those resided in Old Archades.

A quarter of an hour later, Vaan heard the door open, and he jerked to awareness, twisting around in his seat and rising. Larsa came through the room then, accompanied by what looked to be an advisor on his right, and a Judge Magister on his left. Since Vaan and his friends had successfully executed most of them and the Judge's helmet was in place, Vaan found himself unfamiliar with whom it might be. Penelo had once mentioned several replacements. The names long escaped him.

"And tell Lord Ankillies that, unfortunately, our meeting will have to be postponed until the end of the week. Had I known that today's council session would turn so horrid, I would not have bothered to arrive."

The advisor chuckled as Larsa smiled, already opening his mouth to say something further. He paused when he took sight of Vaan. Vaan had already been staring at him for an odd amount of moments now. He was a bit thunderstruck. The last time he had seen Larsa, he'd barely come up to Vaan's shoulders. He was—he was… a _giant _now. He had to stand well over six feet tall!

Larsa recovered quickly enough, fastening another smile into place. "Hello, Vaan." He passed off a folder to his advisor, and the elderly man bobbed his head and retreated from the room, the Magister on his heels.

Vaan shifted self-consciously. He thought he'd been prepared for this meeting, and he was quickly finding that he was very, very wrong. If he'd pondered his attractiveness in the hot bath with Balthier—well… Vaan could see where Penelo's attentions might have gone elsewhere. The man was ridiculously handsome.

"Hey…" Vaan said weakly.

"Had I known you were the visitor who was mentioned, I might have been able to arrive sooner. Did you wait long?" Larsa made his way around to the desk. Vaan could see him fidgeting with his gloves. He tugged on their ends, ran a hand through his hair, and settled himself into his winged-back desk chair.

"No…"

Eyebrows rising ever so slightly, Larsa set aside a few piles of paperwork and folded his arms on the desktop. "That's good news, then. I do not precisely have an abundant amount of entertainment in my office." He chuckled to himself, gaze roaming about the room. "Most days I find myself ready to slit my wrists in here. All work and no play, you understand."

How could he just—sit there…? Sit there and act like nothing was wrong? Like Vaan hadn't trusted him while he was going behind Vaan's back, proposing to Penelo, worming his slimy little way into her heart?

Vaan's fingers twitched at his side. "Yeah. Got it."

"Well…" Larsa blew out a breath and leaned back into his chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Vaan?"

And suddenly, Vaan found himself unable to say anything. He'd practiced this speech inside his head for hours—a full week, even. He'd gone over it to the point where the words should have flowed seamlessly now from his lips. Yet… nothing came out, nothing at all. All he could do was stand there, staring at the man who had stolen Penelo away from him.

The seconds ticked past into a minute. Larsa's brows rose a little higher, but he said nothing, obviously patient enough to wait for Vaan to proceed on his own. The trouble was… Vaan couldn't think of anything to say anymore that seemed remotely useful here. Why _should _he do this the gentlemanly way? If he was honest with himself, he knew Penelo wasn't coming back to him. Even a blind man could see that. She had too much for her here, things Vaan couldn't even begin to provide for her. A real home. Stability. Nice, gaudy things.

So why, then, all this effort of trying to keep things civil, when he'd always been better at letting his fists explain things for him? Not that he could fight him. Imperials would be on him in the time it took to cross over the desk and plant his fist in Larsa's face.

Vaan's eyes lowered. It was then that he caught sight of the sword strapped to his waist. He fingered the hilt, considering. He was good with a blade. So was Larsa. It'd be a fair fight, through and through, and then Penelo couldn't complain at all, and neither could anyone else, if Larsa consented to it.

When Vaan looked up again, he saw that Larsa was studying him intently.

Vaan gestured to his sword. "How about a duel?"

-o-o-

An hour and much sweating later, Vaan cried his outrage, throwing down his sword. It bounced off the floor, much as his cry echoed through the fencing chamber. Larsa stood across from him, as out of breath as Vaan was, but the definite victor. The back of Vaan's head still smarted from where the blunt of Larsa's blade had whacked into him.

Vaan growled. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He blinked it back. "This is ridiculous!" The words ricocheted as his shout had. He took a threatening step toward Larsa, stopped himself, thrust his arm out to the side. "You don't deserve her! You don't! You stole her, that's _cheating_!"

"I stole no one, Vaan," Larsa replied, slightly raggedly. He walked across the room to replace his saber among the blades laid out on a table for him. Dark strands of hair clung to his forehead and the sides of his face. His jacket had been discarded earlier, and the sleeves of his heavy shirt were rolled up to his elbows.

"Then why is she here! You told me she's just an ambassador, yet you've been _grooming _her! You _proposed_! I know all about it! Balthier told me!" Vaan could handle—well, all right, he could _pretend _to handle—the insult of losing, but for Larsa to blatantly lie to his face? That, he could not abide by. "At least have the balls to fess up to what you _did_, Larsa."

Larsa glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow arching again. He was pretty good at that. It made Vaan want to saw it off. For several moments, he said nothing, his expression blank. Vaan knew that this meant the wheels of his mind were turning and he just didn't want Vaan in on it.

"Well?" Vaan demanded when his patience had run out.

"I am sorry you lost her," Larsa said at last. "Much as I am sorry that the duel clearly did not go as you had wished it. But I will not apologize for Penelo being here, and I will not apologize for loving her. I was not aware that you were her parent I must make my intentions clear to. You showed no interest in coming here, you have not stepped foot in this place for quite a many year, yet you expected me to tell you that I love her and wish to pursue her affections, as though we were still friends, comrades?"

That wasn't what he wanted to hear. Vaan wasn't going to sit there and let Mr. Pompous twist the words all around, like it was _Vaan's _fault Larsa had never said anything to him. But when he opened his mouth to retort, nothing came out.

"I played the court honestly. She knew from the beginning when I assigned the position of ambassador to her what my feelings for her were. I outlined them in no uncertain terms. If she chose not to tell you, then I apologize for that, as well." Larsa stepped away from the table and brushed past him, his boots clicking on the marble floor. "But I am not a liar, nor a cheat."

-o-o-

"I hate him!"

"Calm down, and quit making so much racket. I have enough trouble trying to get to sleep without you interfering," Balthier grumbled from his side of the bed in their inn room.

"He really thinks he didn't do anything wrong!" Vaan raged. He paced back and forth across the room, hands buried in his hair. This place felt like a cage. He wanted to get out, hit something, take a ride on his airship and scour the skies until he felt better. Balthier, his self-appointed guardian, wouldn't go for that, though. The only reason Vaan had even gotten him to agree to come to Archades in the first place was because—well…

Growling again, he kicked his foot against the wall, effectively putting a hole through it.

"Now look what you've gone and done." Balthier sat up and gestured to the hole. "If you expect me to pay for that, I'll have you know it will be coming out of your wallet, Vaan, not mine." He curled his lip and glanced away. "Honestly, all this raging and moaning over some chit. She's not precisely your girl any longer. Cut your losses now while you still hold on to some scraps of dignity."

"I have _plenty _of dignity!" Vaan whirled to him, advancing. The last thing he wanted right now was Balthier's smarminess. The elder pirate was asking to get his face punched in again if he kept at it.

But if Balthier noticed the threat in Vaan's eyes, he gave no notice. "You made a mess of my face when she left you over what _you _did to _me_, I had to stop you from storming the palace then and there in _my _airship, you vented for a week and plotted like some besotted… _beast _who insists on fighting over a woman as though she were the last scrap on the table…" He trailed off with a sigh and a shake of his head, and then lifted his hands as though he were washing them of the matter.

A frown tugged at the corners of Vaan's mouth, and he hesitated. Wait a minute. "_I _did to _you_?"

A sly gleam came to Balthier's eyes then. He lifted his brows in a spooky imitation of Larsa and rested his arms on his thighs, clasping his hands loosely between them. "Oh, did I not mention that?" he said idly.

"I did _not _come on to you!" Vaan snarled. He would _never_—no, _never_! Not while he had Penelo, and especially not to a man! And if it was going to be a man, it wouldn't be _Balthier_!

"If that's the way you want to remember it, although if _my _memory serves me correctly, yours is still awaiting trial." The older man tugged at one of his sleeve cuffs. "I suppose mine will have to do for now. Pity that. This would be all the more fun if you could recall the things you did to me."

He had to be lying—he _had _to. There was no way, none at all!

"Let's see, what was it…" Balthier sighed again and glanced upward, lips pursed in thought. "We were leaving the pub before it began, I believe. The whores were waiting for us to join them, but before we could get very far, you shoved me onto the nearest table and assaulted me with a kiss. Sloppy work, that. I didn't mind it very much, as I was as bloody well toasted as you were…"

"Just stop!" Sickened with the knowledge that Balthier might be telling the truth, Vaan swallowed and turned away from him. "I didn't—molest you. _I _hurt down there, not you."

"Oh, I never said that you remained very dominant in this situation for long, Vaan. You only started it. Does that make your conscience rest easier?" Disdain colored Balthier's tone. They were back to that strange bitterness that Balthier got every time they broached the subject. What the hell did he honestly expect from Vaan? For them to suddenly cozy up?

_Not happening_. "No." It made it worse, even. If he had started it and carried through with it, well, okay. But to have _tried _for dominance and obviously had it taken away from him? How much more of his pride being injured did Balthier honestly think he could endure?

"You're going to remember eventually, Vaan, and when you do—"

"See, that's just the thing, _Balthier_!" Vaan paced back to him, pointing a finger at him. Balthier tilted his head back, but otherwise didn't budge or flinch. "I thought you said you were going to let me get my memory back _on my own_! You said it about a week ago! Do you remember _that_?"

"Well, I'm not a very patient man. Something you might have noticed in all these years if you weren't so concentrated on yourself all the time." Balthier examined his nails. He liked to do that an awful lot. Vaan was tempted to savagely rip them from his nail beds so that he wouldn't have to bother anymore. _Got nothin' under your nails __**now**__! _

"I'm not," Vaan retorted. "And you're one to talk about being self-absorbed. You're only ever on _your _side, remember?"

"I remember that you were very loud the night you came to my bed. I remember how you couldn't seem to stop calling my name." His increasingly fast becoming mortal enemy rolled his head on his shoulders to crick his neck. He shook it afterward and placed his hands on his knees. "You enjoyed everything I did to you, much more than any attention the whores paid you. Why, after a bit of time, I simply had to run them off. I was concentrated on you, and you found pleasure only by me, and so their being there was a waste of time and my money."

Vaan wanted to put his hands over his ears and yell, "Lalalalala" at the top of his lungs. Something told him that that would be exceedingly childish and not to attempt it, at least not in the presence of Balthier.

"They were enjoying watching, however. Chasing them off proved more difficult than I had initially thought." Balthier smiled. "I'm sure they can attest to the fact that where it concerns you, I've not been very selfish at all."

"Having sex doesn't make you—"

"I also took you here to Archades, Vaan. While we're on the subject, I do believe it's time you honor your end of the bargain." Balthier folded his arms, his chin lifted expectantly. "I take you to Archades—if you return from the palace without your girl…"

Vaan flushed. "Yeah, sure, you're not selfish at _all_. That's why you're bringing that up now, right?" He hated how sullen he sounded—on the other hand, he wasn't willing to do anything about it just yet. Grown man or not, it was habit to whine when things weren't going his way; lately, that seemed to be happening all the time.

"It's mutual pleasure, not a solo endeavor." Balthier flicked a hand to the bed. "Now, if you will, pull off your boots so you don't dirty the sheets, and climb in."

Abruptly, all the anger left Vaan. He sighed, dropping his eyes to the carpet. It looked plush beneath his boots. The magicite lamps were well-lit, and still full of their magick. It had only taken one swipe of his palm from Vaan to light them. The sheets were crisp, the comforters thick and warm to ward off any chill in the night. An antique dresser was against the far wall, and there was a springy upholstered chair by the window.

It was a nice room. When they'd arrived in Archades some odd hours ago, Balthier had insisted on only the best. That had been fine to Vaan, as long as his companion paid for it. Archades became ridiculously expensive depending on the area one was in, and fortunately for Vaan, who had none, Balthier had plenty of chops to get them around.

"I hate it here," he muttered, and he bent to work on getting his boots off. They clunked to the floor, and Vaan let another sigh loose before he climbed up onto the bed.

"I do, too. Why do you think I left?"

Vaan stretched out by the cozy pillows, weary now that it was all over. He still couldn't believe he'd lost to Larsa. In a battle of good versus evil, shouldn't Vaan have come out the victor? It only made sense! Larsa was the villain who had stolen away Penelo, and Vaan had come to rescue her from his clutches, to save the day and make her see sense.

_Maybe she's just tired of pirating, _he thought again. _Stupid, stable Larsa… _

"You've a habit of a grumpy façade of late," Balthier remarked. He slipped up beside Vaan. Vaan's eyes darted briefly to Balthier's feet. He didn't know why, but he didn't think he'd ever really paid any attention to them bare before, and it was odd. "Shall we head to the nearest pub, let you drown your woes in liquor again?"

"Nah, I'm fine." Vaan tilted his head on the pillow. A faint smile came to his mouth. It was ironic, wasn't it? He'd been so envious of Balthier for so long for his arrogant smoothness with pirating, ladies, and life in general, yet… Balthier wanted _him_. Another _guy_. He would have laughed if he wasn't so tired.

"What are you thinking of?" the elder man in question murmured, his eyes narrowed.

"I'm surprised you want to know," Vaan replied in surprise. Balthier usually never asked anything like that. He usually preferred _not _to know. It kept things simpler that way, or so he said.

"I'm about to kiss you, Vaan." Balthier slid his finger along his cuffs to unbutton them. He worked on his shirt next, pulling it free so that it fell to the floor with a gentle shushing sound. The bed moved a little, but didn't creak as Balthier crept closer, another gleam to his eyes, one that Vaan couldn't read. "As per our arrangement. It is handy for a man to know what goes on in his partner's mind. You, however, are quite difficult to read in this moment. You appear comfortable, yet I know that's not the case." An eyebrow quirked.

"I'm tired." And a little nervous. Balthier didn't need to know that. "I'm also tired of fighting with you. Let's just get it over with so I don't have to think about it anymore." If he'd liked it, or if he hadn't. It was really difficult to know these things with his memory out of the equation.

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Balthier murmured, and he leaned in, his breath a gentle, warm wash over Vaan's mouth.

It was better than Vaan had expected. He was used to minty softness, the gentle glides of tongue Penelo provided when he kissed her. Balthier was the opposite. Then again, he was a man. His mouth was firm, demanding. Vaan had always been the one in control. It was different to hand that over to someone else. Different, but not terrible.

After a moment, Balthier's hand settled over Vaan's stomach. His callused fingertips traced over the ridges of his abdomen. That was a new feeling, too. Penelo had some calluses, of course, but her hands weren't nearly as roughened. It tickled a little. When Vaan inhaled, he caught a musky scent, wood-like. Balthier was all sorts of different. It was a tease against Vaan's senses. He'd only had Penelo for so many years of his life, he didn't know what to expect with Balthier.

Balthier's teeth caught Vaan's lip. It stung, albeit nicely. His tongue pushed back in, more fully exploring the contours of Vaan's mouth. Balthier left no room for rejection. He pressed forward, settling the lean line of his body into Vaan's as he lowered himself on him. One of his knees came to rest easily between Vaan's. His hands planted themselves to the side of Vaan's head and by his ribs.

Okay, so it was better than better than expected. It was—

Between Balthier's teeth and the seamless glide of his tongue, Vaan was starting to have trouble breathing right. He exhaled hard through his nose, his eyes squeezing shut. His hands came up, finding Balthier's skin, needing something to hold onto. It was warm beneath his hands, and his abdomen was as hard as Vaan's. Vaan slid his fingers up to encounter the flat planes of his pectorals and the pebbly surface of his nipples.

The older man murmured something Vaan couldn't make out against his lips before he took his mouth again. Vaan's face felt flushed, feverish. After several seconds of hesitation, his hands finally trailed up into Balthier's hair and gripped onto thick, silky strands the color of cinnamon. Balthier's knee nudged up an inch. It made Vaan's breath catch in his throat, and he broke from the kiss for a moment, turning his head away. This didn't deter Balthier one bit. His mouth sought out his throat instead, biting down, suckling. It wouldn't take long before there was a ring of bruises.

"Wait…" Vaan rasped.

Balthier ignored him. Of course he did. He had Vaan right where he wanted him. Why _would _he stop?

"I—I can't…" This was too much. Not too fast, just too much. Vaan didn't _want _to be aroused by this. He didn't want his lips to sting from the kisses _Balthier _had given him. He didn't _need _hickies on his neck, marks from Balthier, a sure sign that he'd been claimed by his previous mentor.

"Yes, you can," Balthier breathed against his skin. Vaan shivered, his lashes fluttering. "Stop fighting it, Vaan. You want this, too."

He did, and he _hated _it. All the huff and fuss he'd made, and Balthier had been silently laughing at him all the while, _knowing _that as soon as he got Vaan under him, he'd be panting and—

Balthier's tongue curled over his ear just before he bit down. A choked groan left Vaan, his fingers seizing in Balthier's hair. He shifted beneath him, his hips rocking up. His lashes fluttered wildly, and he knocked his head back against the pillows, eyes ceilingward. Balthier moved his kisses down Vaan's throat. His knee shifted, grinded up. The friction was almost obscene in its deliciousness.

"Damn… it…" Vaan moaned. "…hate you…"

Balthier only chuckled.

"Why me…?" Vaan had to get the question out before he forgot everything else, which he knew was coming soon. He had to hand it to Balthier. The man definitely knew what he was doing. "Why not…" He searched his head for a list of names. "Fran?" It made the most sense!

Balthier pulled away, his lips curled into something that looked a lot like mischief. "Well, Vaan. I suppose you're going to have to stick around to find out, aren't you? A pirate doesn't go spilling his secrets for just anyone, now does he?"

Eyebrows lifting, Vaan propped himself up on his elbows. "Well—I can't really be 'just anyone,' can I, if you're—"

A knock resounded on their door.

They blinked at one another, then swiveled their heads to the side. Who could it be? A tiny hope fluttered in Vaan's chest. What if it was Penelo? What if she'd heard about his epic battle with Larsa and had come to tell him… come to tell him what? That he'd deserved to get his butt kicked?

Balthier slid off the bed first. He padded barefoot over to the window and moved the curtains aside. Vaan caught a glimpse of the street.

"Who is it?"

Without answering him, Balthier opened the door with a quickness that surprised Vaan, and his hand snatched out, wrapping in the collar of some Archadian gentry and slamming the door shut after him. Balthier's fist collided with the man's face, sending him toppling to the floor. There, the newcomer shrieked in fright and lifted his arms in surrender.

Balthier's lip curled at this weak display. "Who are you? Who sent you? Speak!"

"I-I-I just came to deliver a message!" the man sputtered around his bloody nose. Vaan's mind was reeling at how the scene had unfolded. So fast! What was going on? "H-H-H…" The man took in a deep breath, closed his eyes. "His…" His throat worked around a swallow. "…Imperial Majesty Lord Larsa has agreed to drop all charges on account of the stolen artifact if you agree to return said artifact and repay your penance in court."

Vaan's mind spun more quickly. What? Artifact? Larsa? Huh?

"Balthier!" The man in question looked up at Vaan's exclamation. Vaan stared at him with wide eyes. "What'd you _steal_?"

"A-An artifact of the _utmost _importance!" The bloodied gentry tossed his hair back from his face as his nose lifted into the air. For someone who had just gotten punched, he sure was affecting a hoity toity appearance now. "Lord Larsa had intended to give it to the House of Margrace as a token of—"

"That's enough of that." Balthier seized the man around the back of his neck like he was a misbehaving kitten and hurled him to his feet. From there, he was led to the door. "You can tell Larsa that I've enough worries on my plate right now, and returning his artifact and accepting my place in court aren't a part of them."

The gentry looked at Balthier as though he were crazy. Vaan was inclined to agree. "Are you _mad_, Lord Ffamran? Anyone else, and it would be off to the dungeons with you! You stole a highly valued—"

Balthier shut the door in his face and locked it for good measure. He whirled to Vaan. "Did you tell him I was here?"

Vaan shook his head wildly in the negative.

The other man put a hand on his hip and scratched at his chin with the other, his brows furrowed in thought. "Hmm… Must have been on the lookout for the _Strahl._" He sighed and shook his head. "And this, Vaan, would mark my reluctance to return to Archades."

Finally, all at once, Vaan's thoughts jumbled free. "You stole something! You stole from _Larsa_? Are you _crazy_?"

"Best not to wag fingers, Vaan. Have you or have you not stolen from the princess's coffers?"

"That was different!" Vaan protested. "I was getting revenge against the Empire!"

"As am I." Balthier picked up his shirt, put it on, buttoned his cuffs, grabbed his pack, threw open the doors to their armoire, and began to toss his things into it.

What the crap did _he _have against the Empire? "Balthier, just give it back to him and you won't be in trouble!" That's basically what that guy had said. If Balthier returned to court and coughed up the artifact, all would be dandy. Pretty easy penance! Hell, Vaan would have taken it had he been Balthier!

"I would…" Balthier paused to look over to Vaan.

"You would…?"

The older man shook his head again, resuming his packing. "If I had it."

Wait, what—he didn't _have _it? Well, what had he done with it?

_Don't be stupid, Vaan. _Probably what any other pirate would have done. Sold the thing to the highest bidder. It could be _anywhere_.

"But seeing as how I don't, I need to leave," Balthier continued. He pulled the strings on his pack and threw it over his shoulder by the straps. "Now—are you coming with me?"

_Argh, this is all happening so fast! _Vaan didn't know what to say. Do. But then, in a moment of clarity, it all became quite simple for him. "Let's see… You stole something from Larsa…" His archnemesis. Forget Vayne, forget the Occuria. To Vaan, in these last few days, Larsa had been much, much worse. Vayne hadn't tried to smash his heart to pieces.

Balthier nodded.

"And now you're on the run from the law?" It was all Vaan knew.

"That certainly sums it up, yes."

Going wouldn't help get back in Penelo's good graces… but hadn't he given that up to start with after he'd failed to beat Larsa at the sword? Hadn't he already accepted that Larsa could provide more for Penelo than Vaan ever could? Now all that was left was pissing Larsa off, because right at that moment, that idea was looking very, _very _good.

Vaan reached for his own pack. "Count me in."


	6. Bruised Feelings

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Square Enix's _Final Fantasy XII_, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

-o-o-

_**An Offer From a Pirate**_

**Chapter Six**

Bruised Feelings

-o-o-

_"Count me in." _

Vaan scoffed as he sat in the co-pilot's seat, well on his way away from Archades and all the problems it presented for his love life. An hour ago, he had thought that this devil may care attitude suited him well—who _needed _Penelo, huh, if she was just going to run straight into the emperor's arms the first time they had a fight? (Vaan very carefully did not think about how that fight had started, or that he may very well have pushed her into them.) Now, though, he was starting to wonder… Balthier had stolen something from Larsa. And they were on the run.

"I don't fancy that we'll run into his like again," Balthier remarked.

The younger man slid a glance his way. "You mean the courier?" The guy Balthier had basically drop-kicked into the next century?

"Courier, messenger of certain doom, mule for the empire, what have you, it's all the same to me."

"Riiight…"

Okay, so—so he was jealous of Larsa. Yeah. Who wouldn't be? The guy ran an _empire_. He had heaps of gold in those coffers somewhere. He had a country at his command. He could buy whatever the heck he wanted. Vaan had dreamed of one day owning his own airship; Larsa could buy _hundreds_. He could take care of Penelo, see to it that she never wanted for anything. Sure, Penelo was an independent sort and really preferred to earn things, but so what? Vaan couldn't compare to that guy.

Ugh! Things were so different when Larsa was twelve and his little green booties were all that the girls cooed over. Years later, Larsa was a giant! He had a really deep voice! He had no skin conditions! His hair was a perfect shade of black, it flipped at the ends and stayed that way without a strand out of place as though by magick, and his eyes were the exact shade of emeralds! He didn't have an ounce of fat on him, he was lean, but well muscled, he walked and spoke with grace…

Vaan pulled at his hair and groaned. Who stood a chance against that?

_"Penelo, darling, have you considered leaving a life of pirating with a dirty scoundrel and joining me instead for a life full of glamour and power?" _There Larsa stood, Penelo in his arms as he stroked her hair and murmured sultrily at her. In the back ground, piles of gold gleamed.

"Aggggh!" Vaan yelled.

Balthier rubbed at his ear with one finger. "Really, Vaan, was that absolutely necessary?"

"I hate him!" Vaan ranted. He had to get it off his chest. He'd been carrying these pent up feelings for _ages_. Ever since Penelo had first signed on as an ambassador. "Where does he think he gets off on, huh?"

"Probably the coffers, I hear they're quite nice…"

"You're _not _helping!" Vaan informed him shortly. "I mean, what makes him so great?" he continued a moment later. "Huh? Yeah, he looks nice, but so what! Beauty is only skin deep!"

"Yet still manages to go quite a long way. Most people don't bother to look past it. I'm guilty of it myself. If a woman has certain… assets… and she's eager to please you, why trouble yourself with what's 'within'?" Balthier pressed a button, guided the steering mechanism just a bit to the right. He reached up, flipped some switches overhead. Clouds drifted past, and they lowered to get a view of the land below.

"The _point_!" Vaan snarled, "is that—that—" Just what was he trying to say?

"The point is that he is very likely going to marry your girl soon, Vaan, and there is not a single thing you can do about it." Typical to his nature, Vaan's former mentor shrugged. "Now… as we have discussed this past the point of acceptable, and as my patience is rather beginning to thin, I suggest we steer the topic to something worthwhile."

But Vaan wasn't ready to give it up yet. "He's not that great," he insisted in a sullen mutter. "Stupid flippy hair…"

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but one mustn't forget his shining _personality_, Vaan. Decorum, grace, wealth… The Solidor boy flaunts these well, and it drew Penelo in." Balthier drew their ship back into the clouds.

"Fine," Vaan said. "Where's Fran, anyway?"

The other man raised his eyebrows. "You've only just noticed her absence?"

"Shut up, I've had a lot on my mind, okay?" Vaan threw himself back in his seat and crossed his arms.

Balthier chuckled, ever amused. Vaan wanted to punch him again. He didn't think it was a feeling that was ever going to go away. "Fran waits for us. We'll see her soon."

That night, they bunkered down over the Cerobi Steppe again. Balthier was tugging off his clothes and Vaan was trying not to notice as they prepared to share the only bed for the evening. The other one, Vaan knew, belonged to Fran, and the viera would be able to smell Vaan on it later and be… well, not happy. And considering Vaan had seen Fran kick some serious ass? He wasn't keen on getting his own handed to him, especially not after his lost duel with Larsa.

"Why can't we stay at an inn?" he grumbled. "Or even my place in Balfonheim?"

"Why waste the gil? Besides that, we're on a time limit. We need to rendezvous with Fran and then recover the talisman, of which the latter alone will take a considerable amount of effort and has an expiration date." Balthier loosened his cufflinks, then pulled his shirt over his head. "Some quick sleep, and then we'll be up first thing in the morning."

Vaan grumbled some more at this, but dutifully climbed into bed, toward where the wall was. "No funny stuff, okay?"

"What, might I ask, is humorous about your unending lust for me, Vaan?" Balthier asked with a completely serious expression.

It made the blond curl a lip at him. "Just keep your hands to yourself."

"Now that," Balthier said, pulling open his trousers, "is not something I can promise."

Vaan flushed, remembering their earlier encounter at the inn room in Archades. He had knowingly walked into that bargain, but still… he hadn't expected to enjoy it quite so much. And now here was Balthier, stripping out of his trousers and climbing into bed completely naked. This was going to prove for a long night indeed, if he had to fret both over how he liked the idea of that and how he was going to keep Balthier off him.

"Is there any particular reason you sleep naked?" Vaan asked. "Or are you just trying to make me uncomfortable?"

"Why do you sleep with clothes on?" Vaan heard him slip beneath the sheets.

"Because what if someone walks in on me?"

"And if you weren't terribly worried about that?"

"Well… I—I don't know…" Vaan flushed.

"You never slept naked beside your lady?" Balthier drawled. "That, I find hard to imagine."

"Leave Penelo out of this!" Thinking about being naked in bed with Penelo made him think about how Penelo was usually naked, as well, which led to him thinking about how Larsa was probably seeing her naked in bed now, and—Penelo, who was the modest type, and would never give it away easily, had spent many years in close proximity with Larsa, and if he took her anywhere near a perfect location to be seduced…

"Worried about her sexual life with the emperor? I would, too, if I were you."

Vaan growled, twisted onto his side, and pulled a pillow over his head. Once more, he wondered what had possessed him to go on a crazy stint with a man he absolutely abhorred.

-o-o-

The night, contrary to Vaan's worries, passed uneventfully, and he pondered his odd feelings of disappointment as he rose to find where Balthier had gotten off to. The man was absent from the bed, and his spot was cold, meaning he'd been gone for some time. He wasn't in the cockpit, and he wasn't anywhere else in the ship, either, so Vaan released the hatch to go outside.

He found the taller man lurking near a tree, peering off over the cliffside, the wind ruffling his hair. Vaan watched him for a moment, something odd twisting in his chest. An idea occurred to him, a dangerous one, a stupid one, something he never would have considered until… well, until he woke up that bizarre morning naked with a flirtatious Balthier right beside him. He took a slow, even breath, studying the man's profile. Then he moved.

_You don't have to test him_, Vaan tried to tell himself.

But he did.

_Why _did Balthier want him? He had legions of women… why Vaan? His answers weren't good enough, vague at best. Now came time for the moment of truth. It was something Vaan wasn't examining too closely, else he'd lose his nerve. Some deep, integral part of him had to know, it had to find out the truth.

He slipped around to the front of Balthier, placed his hands on the elder pirate's chest, gripped at his loose shirt, and leaned up and kissed him.

Later, he would contemplate how very smooth that movement was, how he hadn't hesitated at all, how he'd just dived in, how nothing had screamed that it was wrong at him. And later still, he would replay the moment again and again in his mind—that, despite what he had wanted to believe, Balthier didn't shove him off… instead, he bent his head into Vaan's kiss, and he returned it with equal fervor.

_This, _Vaan thought as what felt like a stone dropped through his chest, straight to the pit of his belly, _wasn't a bright idea. _

Balthier's fingers clenched in Vaan's hair, and he pulled the smaller man roughly up against him. His tongue, his teeth, they attacked Vaan, and like that moment back in the Archades inn, Vaan let them. He gave a soft moan, pliant in the other man's arms, fingers still wound tight in his shirt. The heat of Balthier's mouth, the scrape of stubble—

Oh, yeah.

He was in deep trouble.

"Nice morning, isn't it?" Balthier murmured against his mouth.

Vaan's plan had backfired. And judging by the gleam in Balthier's eyes, he wasn't like to forget that Vaan had made the first moves anytime soon.

_Shit_.

It summed up everything he was feeling and then some.

Now what?


End file.
